


Where they cannot reach you

by Beleriandings



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: (also bonus Ouryuu feels), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Ryokuryuu feels, The one where they return to Ryokuryuu village, warnings and rating may change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The village was the last place Jae-ha had wanted to return to; it was certainly the last place he had wanted Yona to see, or any of the others. </p><p>Yet here they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a peaceful place, the little forest clearing by the stream where they had decided to camp. The trees had thinned here so they could see the sky, barely darkened at all, with the pale half-moon visible just over the tops of the branches. Not far off, the fast-rushing stream they had been following for most of the day widened out into a small, clear pool for a while, before tumbling down a low cleft a little way downstream.

Zeno thought the place seemed a little familiar, though he could not exactly place it. But then that was true for so many such places, these days.  

“This seems like as good a spot as any” said Yoon, setting his bag on the ground and looking around. “How about we stop here for the night?”

After that things moved quickly. It was quite late, Zeno thought, but not dark; it was high summer, and the warm nights were short and bright. Hak was busying himself starting a fire, Kija and Shin-ah having left to gather extra firewood in the surrounding forest. Zeno had been set to cutting up vegetables for their soup, while Yoon divided his attention between Jae-ha, who was helping to put up the tent, and Yona, who had her bow out a little way downstream, her eyes fixed on a bird circling high overhead.

“Hey, someone else got it!”

Zeno looked up at the sound of Yona’s voice, to see her staring up at the sky and frowning.

Yoon came to stand at her side. “What?”

“That bird! An arrow came from over there, I think…” she pointed a little way upstream, into the shadows clustered beneath the trees, where they couldn’t see much, “…and it fell from the sky.”

Hak was on his feet in a moment. “Maybe this place isn’t so safe after all.”

“I’m sure it’s…”

“Shh! Look!” Yona pointed to where the stream flowed out into their clearing. “People!”

There were two of them, Zeno saw, both carrying woven baskets strapped to their backs. A man and a woman, it looked like, the man carrying a longbow and the woman a short, double-pronged spear. The light fell on them after a moment, as they stepped into the clearing, seeming to notice the little camp and immediately raising their weapons.

Straight away, Hak’s glaive was flashing in the dimming evening light, his posture tense in readiness for a fight.

But Zeno was not looking at Hak.

Jae-ha had peered out from behind the beginnings of the tent, and frozen like a deer in the face of a hunter, the tent-pole falling from his hand. For a moment his eyes went very wide, what Zeno could only call pure panic racing through them. His face had drained of colour at the sight of the two people, mouth slightly open. For a long second he simply stood there, still half hidden by the draped cloth’s shadows.

Then Jae-ha’s face twisted, baring his teeth, and suddenly he was moving so fast that in the dim light he seemed a blur of motion.

He darted across the clearing to where Yona stood on the forest’s edge, sticking close to shadows beneath the trees branched. Immediately, and ignoring her cry of alarm, he had scooped her up off her feet, bow, quiver and all. Then he had vanished into the darker trees behind them, hidden in the shadowy gloom under the thicker canopy.

Immediately Hak whirled around. “Droopy Eyes! What do you think you’re - ”

He paused, as Zeno laid a hand on his arm, meeting his eye. “Mister, let him go.”

For a moment, Hak looked into his eyes, and Zeno met his gaze, watching the fury ebb from it, to be replaced by confusion, then gradually acceptance as he subsided, lowering his weapon slightly.

Though there was still a question in his eyes, Hak trusted him at least, which Zeno was glad of. _But if Ryokuryuu reacted like that_ , Zeno thought, _then there must be something more to this than there seems to be. Best take it slowly_.

A sharp voice rang out across the clearing, that of the woman. She had raised her spear, Zeno saw, and the man was nocking an arrow. “Who are you strangers? And what are you doing here?”

Yoon had his hands raised. “We don’t mean any harm. We’re just travellers, stopping for the night.”

The pair were advancing on them now. “Lower your weapons! Hands above your heads!”

Hak actually raised his glaive a little higher at that, until Zeno nudged his arm, raising his own hands. Hak did lay down his weapon at that - though he looked none too happy at the prospect - raising his hands above his head.

“See?” said Yoon, as the pair approached the side of the pool. “We don’t mean any harm. We’re just stopping for the night.” The woman seemed to be in about her forties, the man perhaps a little younger, and they looked as though they might be related. Both were dressed in mossy shades of brown and green, their skin weather-beaten, dark hair peppered with grey, their faces lined and lean.

The woman seemed a little reassured, but did not lower her spear. “We don’t get many travellers around here.”

“Well, we’re just passing through” Yoon said, as Zeno came to his side and nodded. “We’ll be gone by morning. We won’t trouble you.” He brightened for a moment. “Unless you have food you could trade? We have medicinal herbs…”

For a moment, the man and the woman looked at each other. Then the man gave a bitter laugh. “Only trading we’d want to do would be if _you_ had any food.”

The woman nodded grimly, her face closed. “Our village has nothing to spare.” They certainly were both very thin and wiry, Zeno thought, as though spun from old leather. These were the sort who had seen too much desperation, who protected their own at any cost. Zeno had seen many people like that, in his long life, and he knew that sometimes they could be dangerous.

Then again, sometimes they could be as kind as anyone else. He frowned, drawing closer to Yoon and Hak and stopping himself from glancing back towards the trees.

“Oh, is that why you’re hunting this late?” Yoon asked. “I thought it was a little too dark for archery.” He eyed the man’s bow.

“Never. I’m the best shot in the village, by sunlight, moonlight, or the light of the stars themselves” he said, and the woman snorted incredulously.

Hak raised an eyebrow. “I take it it was you that hit that bird then.”

The man smiled, hefting a cloth-wrapped bundle that was hanging from his pack. “Small, but it’s still the only thing we’ve managed to catch all day. Apart from roots and withered apples that is, but I’m not sure they really count as hunting.”

The woman elbowed him in the ribs in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I said we should come to the pool.”

“But it’s like the kid said” said the man, grinning in feigned innocence. “It’s getting too dark now. Good luck catching anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re smirking about, Cheol. It’s you that’s not gonna eat tomorrow if I don’t catch anything. After Ji-soo threw you out - which I still understand completely, by the way - I could have just let you live out in the forest, and maybe I would have done if not for my damned soft heart” grumbled the woman. “But don’t think you’ll get out of doing your fair share, brother!”

The pair seemed to have forgotten about the three of them, and Zeno watched with the others as the Cheol scoffed and his sister spun her double-pronged spear and leapt sure-footedly onto a damp, moss-covered rock by the side of the pool’s gently-swirling waters. For a moment, she stood perfectly still, poised above the water, before striking quickly, drawing her spear out a moment later with a bright, flopping fish impaled on its prongs. “There, see?” she said, taking the fish and striking its head against the rock so that it went still. “Got one already.” She placed it in her basket, wiping the trickle of blood that stained her hands onto her dark-brown tunic.

“Alright, alright, fine” muttered the man, Cheol, as the woman leaned over the river once more. “But Sora, have you forgotten the intruders?”

“They probably don’t mean any harm” said Sora, waving a dismissive hand. “Now leave me alone for a while, it’ll be properly dark soon. I told you we should’ve come to this place from the start” she grumbled under her breath, spearing another fish.

Cheol shook his head, and sat down on a rock, smiling up at Yoon. “Such a traditionalist, but you gotta admit it works pretty well sometimes. Hey kid, can I share your fire while I wait?”

Yoon nodded, looking a little perplexed. Hak looked none too happy with the prospect - he kept glancing off back into the woods, in the direction Jae-ha and Yona had disappeared - but to Zeno’s relief he said nothing.

“A “ _traditionalist_ ”?” asked Zeno, tilting his head. “What does that mean, hmm?”

“Oh, it’s a tradition in our village” said Cheol, shrugging. “Age old. It used to be spear- _fighting_  back in the very old days, I heard, but then it turned into spear- _fishing_ when the famine overcame the need to hide from - ”

“From our enemies” interrupted Sora, abruptly. “Anyway, good to see you with that, boy.” She indicated Hak’s glaive, looking appreciative. “You actually know how to use it?”

Hak’s face said he wanted to _show_ her how he could use it. “Do I look like the sort who wouldn’t?”

Sora shrugged, laughing. “Alright, alright, no offence meant, kid! Don’t know about where you’re from, but in our village, people these days don’t appreciate the old arts. Bows are good, but the whole reason they started using them was…” she paused then, as though changing her mind mid-sentence.

“What?”

“….For a problem that doesn’t exist anymore.” She stopped their questions by spearing another fish, slinging it in her basket.

“Yeah, the past doesn’t mean much for our people these days” said Cheol with a laugh.

“Still, if it catches us food…” said Sora, grimly. She seemed to be talking to herself now. “I said to the Elder, I told him, why don’t we move back to better farmland, somewhere were we might actually have a year when the harvest _doesn’t_ fail. Especially now that - ”

“Sora.”

“Right. Now that we’ve got less enemies to worry about. But did he listen? Of course he didn’t.” She lunged forward and missed a fish in the water, cursing.

*****

It was full dark by the time Kija and Shin-ah returned, carrying extra firewood. By then, Cheol and Sora were sitting by their own fire, a few fish spitting and crackling on sticks over the flames.

“I’m sorry we took so long” said Kija. He looked worried by something. As did Shin-ah, Zeno thought; though his masked face betrayed nothing, Zeno could tell by the way he stood that he was just as troubled as Kija, tense and fearful. “Shin-ah saw…” he broke off then; he had spotted the other fire, not far away by the side of the pool “….Um. Zeno? Who are _they_?”

“They were fishing in the pool” said Yoon, before Zeno could answer. He shrugged. “They’re from a village not far off, up in the hills they said. They seem nice.”

“Oh, hello” said Cheol, waving from the other fire. “These guys’ other companions returned at last. Hey, Sora look! I’ve never seen a mask like that before.” He turned to Shin-ah. “What’s your story then, mister? You got such an ugly face?”

“He’s my brother” said Kija tightly, drawing Shin-ah to one side to help stack the firewood. “And his face is absolutely fine, thank you very much.”

“Alright, alright! No need to take it so - ”

But at that moment, Sora interrupted him with a gasp. “Wh-what in the name of the Gods is _that_ …?”

“What?” snapped Kija, spinning around and dropping his firewood. Zeno watched as Kija followed their gaze, inevitably, to his dragon hand. He raised it in front of him. “Oh this? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ha- ”

“He’s nobody. Ah! We’re travelling performers!” said Zeno, jumping in front of Kija, hoping he had the good sense to hide his dragon hand from view. “My... ah... brother is… um. He has a disease of the hand. Very dangerous. Not contagious, or not as far as we know…” he couldn’t help but give a mischievous smile. “So you’re _probably_ safe.”

“ _Disease_?” whispered Kija in his ear, indignantly. “Couldn’t you think of something with more - ”

“Time to shut up now, White Snake” Hak hissed, elbowing Kija in the ribs. Zeno felt inclined to agree with the sentiment. Whoever these people were, he found that the thought of revealing the true identities of their group gave him a bad feeling. He looked over at Cheol and Sora in the firelight, and was alarmed to see that they had both gone wide-eyed, darting quick looks between each other.

 _Were they fooled by the disease?_ Zeno wondered. Somehow he didn’t think so. _Do they know who we really are?_ He thought that also unlikely, _but then again, many people know the legend of the four dragons, at least well enough to recognise Hakuryuu when they see him. Even if they don’t believe what they see_.

“Kija” broke in Yoon, sharply, catching Zeno’s look. “Why don’t you tell us why you took so long coming back, hmm?” He offered bowls of soup to Kija and Shin-ah, which at least partially cleared the tension in the air. “Your dinner was beginning to get cold.”

“Well, I was _going_ to explain to you” said Kija stiffly, as Ao hopped down from Shin-ah’s shoulder enthusiastically, at the prospect of food. “But I was… interrupted.” His face crumpled into a frown again. “We were searching the forest. While we were gathering wood, Shin-ah saw Jae-ha jump into the sky and away, and we thought…” Kija broke off and looked over at the two strangers, then at the others. “…What?”

A deadly silence had fallen. Zeno’s eyes went wide in surprise at the looks on Cheol and Sora’s faces; twin expressions of utter horror. “Did… did you say… _Jae-ha_?”

Kija blinked. “Yes. He's tall, with long green hair. Would be in the company of a young red-haired girl, beautiful, noble of face and bearing…”

“ _White Snake_.”

“Ah. Yes.” He tilted his head, looking at the two of them uncertainly. “Anyway. Have you… have you seen either of them?”

The two of them stared, utterly silent and frozen, at Kija for a long moment.

As they had ever since Kija had said the name _Jae-ha_.

And then, for Zeno, it all fell into place, with horrible certainty. It was no wonder this place had seemed so familiar. He might even have walked this exact same path, not sixteen years before… and the people. He remembered now, they all had that look about them, their pinched faces, their way of speaking. Even the longbow looked vaguely familiar, from the guards he had seen posted about the fenced perimeter. _And they said spear-fighting was an age-old tradition in the village_ … Zeno cursed himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. No wonder Jae-ha had reacted as he did - _he ran into the forest, not wanting them to see him jump into the sky_ \- on seeing people he undoubtedly recognised from among the villagers.

“No” blurted out Sora, in belated response to Kija’s question. “No we haven’t. We’ve never seen anyone like that.” She dragged Cheol up by the arm. “Please… give my brother and I a moment. We need to… ah… talk in private.” And with that she dragged him off out of the circle of firelight.

 _They think we’re here looking for Ryokuryuu_ , Zeno realised.  _They think that we’re coming to them expecting to find our brother in the village, and they’re scared because they’ve failed in their sacred duty of keeping him there_. _They fear the wrath of dragons_. He clenched his fist in anger at the memory of a chilly stone hut without windows, chains bolted to the walls and pooling in coils around the manacled ankles and wrists of a scrawny, ragged child with a bruised face and a broken lip, asleep on the worn matting. Of fences and arrows, of generations and generations of hurting and confinement. And anger. He frowned. _Perhaps they fear the wrath of dragons for the wrong reasons_.

Still, Zeno had never thought himself a very wrathful person. He made an effort to loose the tension in his shoulders, uncurling his twisted hands. He peered up, to see Kija looking at him, a questioning expression on his face. “Zeno? Do you know something about this? As long as the princess is with Jae-ha, I’m not worried, but…”

“Really?” mumbled Hak, under his breath. “Sounds like a mistake to me.” Still, there was no heat in it; Hak trusted Jae-ha too, as they all well knew.

“ - and I don’t know about you, but my sense of him when he fled…” Kija shook his head. “It was… well, he was afraid. It was like Shisen, almost.” Shin-ah was nodding gravely at Kija’s words, his fingers flickering nervously over the soft fur on Ao’s back. “So if you have any idea where they might have gone, and why…”

Everyone else’s heads turned to Zeno too, and his heart sank.

“And these people” Kija was saying, gesturing at Cheol and Sora. “I get the feeling they’re not telling us something. Do you have any thoughts…?”

For a moment, Zeno let himself imagine what would happen if he told Kija the truth. If he told them all, right there and then; told them about Ryokuryuu village, about the child who had grown up and run, about the chains and the arrows. About how Zeno had done nothing, had left him there lying on the hard floor with nothing but the scant warmth of a worn travelling cloak for comfort. About how he had left the others behind, just the same.

He could tell them, he knew; maybe he _should_ tell them. Maybe it would be the right thing to do.

But though Jae-ha was not here, it would come back to him in the end. Zeno couldn’t keep it to himself, how he had abandoned that child in his chains; there was no escaping it. And Yona would find out eventually, too. About all of it. She who saw him as brave and good, as boundlessly kind, her eyes - those of his King, from long ago - would fill with disappointment, her illusion of him shattered.

And, Zeno realised, he wasn’t brave enough for that.

Besides, wasn’t it his duty to protect her?

He looked up, straight into Kija’s eyes, the same as those of the sweet, trusting little boy who had been bathing in the river that windy morning sixteen years ago. Zeno took a deep breath. _Oh dragon god, I know you probably can’t hear me and I know I don’t deserve it, but please, forgive me this_. “No” he said. “No, Zeno has no idea.”

There was a short silence.

“…Well” said Yoon after a while, folding his arms. “That’s the end of that then.”

“But surely…” Kija began to protest. But he was interrupted by Sora, stepping back into the circle of firelight.

“Mister” she said, addressing her words to Kija. “We'd like to invite you and your…” she glanced uncertainly around “…servants - ”

“Hey!” protested Yoon.

“Attendants…”

“Guess again.”

“Bodyguards?”

“Close enough” said Hak, grinning.

“Brothers and friends” put in Kija, decisively.

“…Yes. Well, my brother and I thought it may help you on your quest to find your own lost… associates, if you… came back to our village with us. That is to say, it’s a dark night. You won’t be able to see much until morning. Please, accept our offer of a place to stay the night…”

“This one can see well in the dark” said Zeno quickly, patting Shin-ah on the shoulder.

“But you must be tired! We can offer you food, beds…”

“I thought you said there was a shortage of food in the village?” said Hak, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Guests always find hospitality at the table of the village elder” said Cheol quickly.

Zeno watched Kija and Hak exchange looks. Clearly they were considering the offer.

“We couldn’t go without the Miss” put in Zeno quickly, drawing them all close to speak privately. He wanted to avert the possibility of them going to the village if it was in him to do so. “She would be lost without us.”

“Jae-ha is with her,” pointed out Yoon, “she’ll be safe.”

“Yes, and he can sense us just like we can sense him” said Kija. “He can easily find his way back to us.”

“Mmm” agreed Shin-ah, nodding. “And Jae-ha… isn't… so afraid anymore…”

Zeno blinked, and realised that Shin-ah was correct; the bolt of cold panic he had felt go through the sense he had of Jae-ha’s presence had dissipated now, a little; he could still feel fear there, but it was less acute, less wild, and backed by the familiar bright green light at the corner of his awareness. Not close, but not so far either. And not in so much distress, as far as he could tell.

“Yes!” said Kija. “You’re right, Shin-ah. They must be safe.”

“White Snake, are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive? You don’t just want to sleep somewhere soft away from bugs…?” teased Hak, causing Kija to yell in protest.

“I would never be that shallow, that… _neglectful_ of my duty. No, if we are to start out again in the morning, the village would merely be as good a place as any to begin our search…”

Hak dissolved into laughter as Kija clenched his scaled right fist, dramatically.

“A vantage point, and a landmark, which Jae-ha can use to help him find us.”

Zeno highly doubted Jae-ha would do that; but now, he knew, he could not say anything about it. He cursed his own cowardice. Yet still, he could not tell them. Not here, not with the villagers within earshot.

 _Ha. Of course that’s the reason, Ouryuu_. _Definitely not because you’re scared to tell them_.

“It does make sense though” said Yoon. “Camp here, or stay in the village. It’s probably about the same distance, and we can do some trading while we’re there. Get a better map of the region, even. In fact, if it had been on my original map I would have suggested we stop there already.”

“I guess it _will_ be easier for them to find us there…” said Hak, reluctantly. Zeno could tell that he would rather be rushing off into the forest to look for the princess here and now, but Hak stayed put, his glaive balanced over one shoulder.

“So, are we all in agreement? We’re going to stay the night in the village?”

Everyone nodded or murmured their assent.

“Zeno?”

Zeno looked away. _Selfish_ , said the voice in his head. _You have no right to feel like this about the place; you weren’t the one chained to the floor_.

Slowly, he sighed and nodded. “…Yes. Zeno will come.”

* * *

The darkening forest flashed by in a shadowy, chaotic blur of motion as Jae-ha ran through the undergrowth, occasionally making little jumps over fallen logs or thicker knots of vegetation. Yona clung desperately to his arm as he carried her, hardly daring to look up at his face again.

It was almost too dim to see his expression, but when she had caught a glimpse of it she had rather wished she hadn’t; she had never been _afraid_ of any of the dragons before, but seeing Jae-ha like this… he looked so different, she barely knew him. His face was that of a hunted animal, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and anger, his teeth bared as he ran. He was not looking at her, but straight forward, his eyes fixed ahead. “Jae-ha…” she tried to say, tugging at his sleeve. “Jae-ha, it’s alright, nothing’s chasing us… Jae-ha you can put me down, it’s fine, we can just go back and - ”

The rest of her words were lost as they reached another clearing, the trees thinning out much like the one in which they had begun to set up camp. As soon as they reached clear ground, Jae-ha jumped into the sky, the calm, warm evening air whipped suddenly into wind by their speed, wind that blew the very words from Yona’s mouth.

They landed in a tree’s canopy some way off, Jae-ha cradling her in his arms with a gentleness that seemed quite out of place with the terrible wildness dancing in his eyes. She was about to ask him what was going on, to try to calm the awful fear that pounded through him - the way he was carrying her tight against his chest, she could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart - but again the words were stolen from her, before she had the chance. Immediately, he had jumped again, springing into the sky with a glance back over his shoulder to where the bright ribbon of the stream meandered through the forest, coming down from the mountains’ foothills to the north.

Several more times Jae-ha jumped from tree to tree, and Yona was just beginning to wonder how far they had come when he stopped, at long last. Jae-ha’s eyes were very wide still, his breath coming in quick, uneven bursts as he laid Yona gently down in the natural cradle where the tree’s great bough forked into three, before leaning back himself against its trunk. His cheek was cut with a thin red line already beading with tiny drops of blood, scratched by thorns or a stray branch as they ran through the woods, Yona thought.

“Jae-ha… you’re… you’re bleeding… here, let me…” she scrambled up and crawled along the thick branch, reaching out a tentative hand towards him.

For a moment, he just stared at her, as if her words were slow to cross the short distance between them. Then, slowly, he drew his own hand up to touch the cut on his cheek, staring at the fingers that came away bloody. His hands - normally so sure and quick - were trembling violently, Yona noticed, something she had only seen once before in him, and had hoped never to see again.

For a long time he stared at the blood on his fingers in the gathering dusk. Then he stared at Yona, his eyes searching her face. They were not quite as wide as they had been, but she thought she could see the glimmer of tears there.

“Jae-ha…? It’s… it’s alright now.” Carefully, she scooted along the branch until she was sitting beside him. “Whatever happened… whatever you saw… it’s fine. We’re safe, I promise.”

“Safe…?” The word hung in the air, his voice strangely hollow, brittle. Finally he let out a sound of frustration, his head falling forward into his hand as he raked his fingers through the front of his hair, in anger. “ _Safe_. Right.” He seemed to look around, at the tree, at the sky, at Yona. He pressed the heals of his hands over his eyes for a long moment, taking slow, deliberate breaths in the silence. At long last, he opened his eyes, and Yona saw they were red around the edges. “Yona, dear, please forgive me for that. I… I… overreacted…”

Yona didn’t know what to say, so she just looked up at him, wishing she knew how to help.

“Ach, what am I _doing_?” He glared down to one side in frustrated anger. “Please, forgive me Yona… you should not have had to see me that way.”

“I don’t care, Jae-ha, honestly. Whatever you need to…”

“No. Stop. That… that was not beautiful of me… that was…”

He fell immediately silent as she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. When she drew back, he was looking back at her with the most vulnerable expression she had ever seen grace his face, his mouth slightly open in pained surprise. It shocked her, the raw pain in his eyes, that had seemed to come from nowhere. She took a deep breath. “Those… those people. You knew them, didn’t you?”

Mutely, he nodded.

“Were they… were they from your village?”

He was silent for a long time. “….Yes. Yes they were.”

“And… you wanted to save me from them?” She hesitated. Was _Ryokuryuu village really so bad?_ She had always assumed that Jae-ha was just teasing Kija with his stories of chains and beatings, but suddenly she was not so sure.

“Ah… to tell you the truth…” he let out a quiet, bitter laugh, “I didn’t really think what I was doing. It’s… it’s already a bit of a blur. But yes, I suppose my first impulse was to save you.” He drew his hand through the front of his hair again, smiling painfully. “The dragon’s blood thinks for me even if I am not thinking for myself, I suppose.”

Yona nodded, though she was not reassured by this.

*****

“Can you see the others?” she asked some time later, looking up at Jae-ha where he stood on a branch, his head protruding above the leafy canopy. She clung tighter to the the great smooth-barked bough.

Jae-ha ducked below the canopy again, his face troubled. He still seemed paler than usual even in the dim light, Yona thought. Pale and somehow weary-looking, as though his eyes were shadowed with some overhanging fear. “No” he said. “It’s as I thought; they moved from the side of the river. But I _can_ sense them.” He hesitated for a long time, then pointed. “They’re headed that way. To… to the hills.”

“Well, shall we follow them?” asked Yona, hesitantly. Something in his voice had worried her.

Jae-ha seemed to freeze for a moment, like smooth glass suffused with cracks that still holds together, but would shatter at the slightest touch. “Yes” he said, his mouth twisting into a bitter, humourless smile. “Yes, I suppose we will have to.”

* * *

“What an odd place” said Kija in a half-whisper, running his hand over yet another low timber fence as they carried on up the winding path that led to the village. “All these fences.”

“Makes you wonder what they’re so afraid of. What they’re trying to keep out” said Hak, his words falling into silence as they climbed the slope.

It was just as Zeno remembered it, down to the archers covering them from higher up the hill. It was too dark for Zeno to see them - though he knew Shin-ah could, those eyes were turned ever upwards towards the little timber palisade where they were stationed. For himself, Zeno tried not to look.

Not to let them know he had been to this place before.

He remembered it though; oh, how well he remembered it. It was here, in fact, at about this spot just outside the main square, that Zeno had seen Jae-ha’s predecessor. He had seen him from a distance, as he slipped away from the cold stone hut higher up the grassy, terraced hillside. The man had been carrying a basket as though it held his life within, his head hunched forward, letting long, lank ropes of green hair swing over his face. But it was his eyes that had remained in Zeno’s head, long after other details had fled; dark pits of desolation, the eyes of one who has no hope, none at all.

Those eyes were hard for Zeno to look at.

The village elder had been speaking to him, reprimanding him. "Ryokuryuu, barring the possibility that the King should arrive today….” the elder’s voice dripped with sarcasm and unconcealed dislike, ‘you have one task to do, in exchange for food and a place in the village. It is a generous settlement we have, that in exchange for this in these troubled times…"

The previous Ryokuryuu had given a derisive snort then, which the elder had pointedly ignored. “In return for our generosity, you are asked to fulfil no other task than making sure one child does not escape. You nearly slipped a few days ago, nearly let him go. I expect better, Garou.”

 _Ah, so his name’s Garou_ , Zeno had thought. He wished he hadn’t heard a name; he didn’t _want_ to know any of their names.

“In light of this, I’m cutting your ration for the week. I’m sure you can understand why this is necessary…”

Zeno had expected Garou to argue, to fight back, but he had not. He had merely taken the basket handed to him, his shoulders slumping in resignation, and trudged slowly up the hill.

Zeno had thought, then, of going to him, of telling him something that would ease the pain written in his very motions. Of telling him that the king was coming, even; that it had already begun. Zeno had seen the red star, the sign of that person who would burn so bright across the sky.

The person that Garou would surely never live to see, in any case.

In the end though, Zeno had been simply unable to do anything of the kind. Nor did he have any advice to offer in the line of _it will be alright_. _The pain will ease, in the end_. He had never been good at that sort of thing, and he was the last person who could sympathise.

Besides, it was a lie.

And so Zeno had turned away, had hidden before Garou could react to the sense of the presence of another dragon. He doubted the man would know the feeling for what it was anyway, but in that moment, something deep within Zeno had wanted to flee, had been unable to face those eyes. And so he had disappeared, had not offered the man with no hope any of what little he had.

 _Just another mistake, another failure, another farewell he hadn’t been strong enough to make_ , Zeno knew. _There really were so many_.

*****

The village elder regarded them with suspicion and a raised eyebrow. He turned to Kija first. “Sora tells me you’re the talkative one. Are you the leader then?”

Kija blushed. “No, no! In truth, we are… looking for our leader, as well as one of our associates.“

“Very well. So who are these strangely dressed ones, then?”

“Ah! My brothers, Shin-ah, Zeno…”

Zeno rubbed the back of his head, smiling his most cheerful smile. That often discomfited people most of all, Zeno had long ago realised. “Hello, mister.”

The man gave him a slightly dubious look, then raised a rather suspicious eyebrow at the sight of Shin-ah. “Hmph.” He turned to Hak and Yoon. “And you are?”

“Yoon. I’m a handsome genius and I look after these beasts. Pleased to meet you” said Yoon, drowning Hak’s simultaneous “ _no one you would know_ ”.

The old, grey-bearded man gave them all a slightly disapproving glare, but apparently chose not to comment. “Well, I am Elder Jumong” he said, drawing himself up a little taller. He twisted his hands together before him. “I must tell you that we have no liking for strangers here. Your quest is a worthy one” he narrowed his eyes. “It’s always good for servants to be loyal to their master. But I must tell you, you won’t find him here. In fact it’s better if you leave these lands.”

“We’re also looking for our - ”

“Associate, as we said” interrupted Yoon, abruptly. Zeno couldn’t blame him; this man gave him a bad feeling too, and suddenly he didn’t want him to even be aware of Yona’s existence, or Jae-ha’s presence here - _though Sora must have told him that that name had been mentioned_ \- or that the four dragons were united with their master once again.

“Your... associate” said the Elder, with a slight raise of his eyebrow, though he did not comment further.

“Yes” said Yoon. “And don’t worry, sir. In the morning we’ll be away from here. And if you won’t let us stay the night, we can camp outside the village’s borders…”

The man sighed deeply, running a hand through his long, grizzled hair. He seemed to battle with himself for a moment. Then he harrumphed. “No, no. Sora and Cheol offered you a roof over your heads for the night, so I must take you in. But by sunrise, you must be gone, understand? And I don’t want any of you wandering around, especially not up the hill.” He seemed to gather himself for a moment. “Because it’s… um… it’s dangerous on the hillside.”

“Oh really?” asked Hak. “Why so?”

Jumong looked as though he wished he’d never spoken. “There are… the house halfway up…” he drew back the piece of cloth nailed across the window like a curtain, pointing up the hill to a blot of darkness that might just have been a little stone hut, “it’s unsound. The structure, you know. Very dangerous. And it’s inhabited by evil spirits! Yes. The vengeful spirits of the dead! Once a terrible monster lived there, and his ghost still haunts it, and he gathers all the other spirits to himself. Very dangerous indeed. Never let it be said that I didn’t warn you.”

Hak had raised an eyebrow. “Evil spirits.”

“Oooooh, it sounds creepy!” said Zeno quickly, raising his hands and making waving motions in the air. “Zeno shall be sure to stay away, far away, and his friends too!”

Elder Jumong nodded, looking at least a little appeased. “Good. Well then, I’ll have someone show you to your rooms.“

* * *

“Oh! There’s a village ahead!” said Yona, pointing, as they reached the highest point of one of Jae-ha’s jumps and she caught sight of it. “How come we didn’t know about that before?”

“It wouldn’t exactly have been on any maps” said Jae-ha. She was clinging onto his back this time and couldn’t see his face, but the catch in his voice sent a chill through her.

“Jae-ha… she said, as realisation struck her. “It’s your village we're heading to, isn’t it? The place those people were from.”

He didn’t answer until they landed on a patch of flat, grassy ground where the trees thinned at the base of the hill. “Yes” he said. “I should have known that if we saw those two hunters, we weren’t likely to be too far away.”

“Don’t you… don’t you remember the surrounding lands, then?”

He laughed bitterly at that. “Well, I saw them once, and that was when I was twelve years old and on the run for my life. So no, I can’t say I do recall the lie of the land so well.”

She smiled, trying to be encouraging. “That’s understandable. I don’t think I would exactly recognise the lands around the palace where I lived most of my life.”

She thought he had barely heard her though. “Perhaps not” he said, uncertainly. He was gazing up the hill, standing very still, as though steeling himself, and she saw his hand reflexively flash to the lining of his sleeves, as though to touch the familiar metal of his hidden blades.

She took his hands in her own, on an impulse. “Jae-ha.” When he looked into her eyes, many expressions warred across his face, but she met his gaze squarely. “Are… are you going to be alright with this?”

He shrugged, almost matching his usual laconic manner but not quite, taking some time to answer. “I haven’t got much of a choice, have I?”

“You have a choice. You’ll _always_ have a choice, if I have anything to say about it.” She frowned uncertainly up the hill. “I could go, you could stay and - ”

“Yona.”

“Yes?”

“If you think there is any way in this world that I am letting you go up there on your own, you are sadly mistaken.” He sighed, drawing his hands back from her and turning. “Besides” he said, briskly. “As our dear Kija would say, my brothers are up there. And I would die before I let the villagers have them.”

Yona gave a teary laugh. “You really are beginning to sound like him.”

Jae-ha rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile coming to his face. “Dragon gods curse me twice. Now, shall we go?”

*****

It was dark now, and Yona saw the village as only a succession of small glows of firelight as they soared over it, landing in a high, rocky cleft further up the slope.

“Huh” said Jae-ha, letting her down carefully amongst the boulders and peering down the valley. He had that bitter twist of a smile on his face again, Yona saw. “I expected that to be more complicated.”

“Complicated? Why?”

“The villagers like to shoot things that fly overhead full of arrows” said Jae-ha dryly. He stilled her alarmed protest at this with a raised hand. “They’ve likely dropped their guard lately, though. It’s dark too. Still…”

Yona nodded. “I’ll be on the lookout.” She held up her bow. “If they shoot at you, I’ll shoot them back.”

“I know” he said, smiling a little more genuinely this time. “Still, I think we should make use of this darkness to head down to the village.”

She nodded. “Where will we go?” She whispered, as they landed once more on damp, long grass, ducking down behind a timber fence. “Kija, Zeno and Shin-ah should sense you, right? They’ll know we’re here, so we just need to wait.”

He nodded. “Yes, you’re right. But they might be in trouble. I doubt they came here of their own free will.”

Yona’s eyes went wide. "You think they got captured?”

“I can’t see why else they would come here” said Jae-ha grimly. “But don’t worry too much. I'll… I’ll get them out.” He seemed to be taking deep breaths, as though to calm himself, but after a moment he rallied. “Either way, though, we’re going to need a hiding place.” For a moment he was silent, as if thinking. Then he gave a nervous, brittle laugh. “And I think I know the perfect spot.”

“Where?”

“The one place no one from the village will be likely to go. There’s a hut, about halfway up the hill… I can guarantee it will make a nice, deserted hiding place.” That same pained laugh again. “Come on, let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

The others were asleep, but Kija was awake, and restless. He tossed and turned, trying to get let himself fall into dreams, but sleep was stubbornly slow in coming. He tugged at the bandages with which he had wrapped his dragon hand, to keep it from the eyes of the villagers. His blanket itched, and he was too cold; the air was chilly and damp up here in the hills, and the little oil burner that had given some scant warmth to the small, draughty room they had been shown to had gone out several hours ago.

But it wasn’t any of that that gave him a bad feeling. This whole place… there was something about it, something that set his teeth on edge. He would be glad, he knew, when morning came and they set out to look for Jae-ha and the princess once more.

Except, he realised, Jae-ha was _here_. Kija could feel his presence; not close by, like the warm yellow and blue of Zeno and Shin-ah, sleeping wrapped up together in the same blanket a little way off, with Ao tucked between them. No; Jae-ha’s presence was not _that_ close, but it was definitely closer than it had been. Maybe even within the village, he realised.

Quietly, Kija got up, tugging on his shoes and buttoning his collar close about his throat against the cold night air. Carefully, he stepped over Hak’s legs where he was sleeping propped against the wall - Hak stirred and murmured something about the Princess, but did not wake - and opened the door just a crack. He peered up the hill, in the direction he thought his sense of Jae-ha was coming from.

 _Well_ , Kija thought, staring back at the others, who all seemed to be sleeping peacefully. _Since I won’t get any more sleep, I may as well get a head start on looking around_.

Save for the crude iron braziers beside the roughly-constructed palisade - and he soon looked away from them, as they left him nightblind - the village was very dark indeed. He remembered the thick cloth nailed across the Elder’s window. _Are they trying to hide from something_? He had thought this valley was peaceful though, mostly free of the robbers and bandits that were such a menace to the rest of the kingdom. Nor was it a route that soldiers might take, for the valley was far from any disputed lands, nor did it connect anywhere important that kings or lords might travel to.

Kija frowned, thinking about the evil spirits that Jumong had spoken of. _But surely he had been lying… it had been written all over him_.

Still, in this dark night, Kija could almost believe such tales.

That made him remember the hut the Elder had spoken of, the one they weren’t supposed to go to. He gazed up the hill, the light of the half moon picking out the roofs and hillside in dull silver, just enough to see a little, but nothing clear. For a moment he considered waking Shin-ah, then immediately dismissed the thought. _Let him sleep_. They would take a proper look around in the morning.

There _was_ a hut there though, that much Kija could see. Almost immediately when he looked at it, his eyes widened.

Its position matched that of the the green glow in his mind. It matched it almost exactly.

“Jae-ha… Princess…” he murmured, quickening his pace. “What are you doing?”

He nearly carried on up the hill then, but for a light in his peripheral vision. The dim glimmer of a rush taper, flickering in the same wind that stirred a piece of dark cloth nailed to a window frame, one corner flapping loose.

Kija frowned. That was Elder Jumong’s house, he realised. And he could hear voices coming from the window.

He hesitated. He had never been one for hiding and eavesdropping; for one thing, he was hardly the most inconspicuous of people, and besides, his Granny had always taught him better. He had barely ever needed to do anything covert or surreptitious, never needed to sneak away anywhere he was not supposed to be. Save for that once of course, the day his father died. But that was different, he knew.

Or he had barely ever needed to before he left the village. Now, Kija thought resignedly, they seemed to have to resort to subterfuge rather too often for his taste. He preferred to fight out in the open, with his own strength.

Still, he didn’t trust these villagers; they were clearly hiding something. And with his Princess out there somewhere…

Kija hesitated no longer. As quietly as he could, he ducked down below the window, pressing his back up against the stone wall and trying not to think about the insects that were probably crawling onto him even now.

Still, after a moment the sound of voices filtering through the window, from behind the flapping corner of the cloth, was more than enough to distract him.

“I’m telling you, I know what I saw” said a woman’s voice. It was Sora, Kija realised, the woman from earlier. “His hand… it was… _clawed_ , and… and _scaly_ , and… didn’t you see it?”

“He kept it hidden when they came to see me.” This one sounded like Jumong’s voice. “Wrapped in bandages.”

“See? I’m swear, he’s Hakuryuu, just like the legends said. Got to be. And if they feel the need to hide, they must be up to something. They must be looking for Ryokuryuu, I’m telling you! And any minute they could figure out we lost that damn brat all those years ago. And the moment they do they’ll turn on us, don’t ever doubt it. We haven’t got the strength to defend ourselves from that Hakuryuu creature; you know we haven’t.”

“Yeah” said another voice, grimly. It sounded like Cheol. “And I’ll wager he isn’t the only one of them that’s a dragon. That one in the mask. He looks harmless, but I think he’s Seiryuu.”

“Seiryuu? That shy kid in the weird mask? I thought the other one was Seiryuu. The one with the glaive, and the pretty blue eyes…”

“Don’t be an idiot, Sora. Seiryuu’s eyes are golden, the eyes of the dragon. Everyone knows that.”

“Really? I thought they were supposed to be blue.”

“Nah. And anyway, if you look at Seiryuu’s eyes, you turn to stone, far as I heard. Of course he wears a mask, otherwise he’d turn his friends to stone too, like that.” A snap of fingers.

“If his eyes turn you to stone when you see them, then how does anyone know what colour they are?“

That silenced Cheol for a long moment. "….I don’t know” he admitted.

“It all sounds a bit fishy to me.”

“Maybe. But at least they don’t have Ouryuu with them.”

“Why?“ said Sora, curiously. "What’s Ouryuu like?”

“He’s supposed to have a strong body. That means big and tough, I reckon. He can probably crush skulls with his bare hands.”

“Leaving aside such speculation” said Jumong, over Cheol’s rather gleeful account. “If these two really are Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, we need to head them off quickly, before they go snooping around. You’ve put me in a difficult position to say the least, bringing them here, I hope the two of you realise that. You’ve endangered the village more than any miserable gang of starved bandits ever could.”

“Surely it’s better than having them roaming around who knows where, spreading tales” said Sora. “Besides, we didn’t know what to do but bring them here! There wasn’t exactly much time to think out a strategy."

Jumong gave a non-committal grunt of assent.

A snick of metal, like a knife being unsheathed. “Elder, you want them done in while they sleep? Nice quick job. Sora can help.”

“That would _not_ be a wise plan” said Jumong dryly. “Kill two dragons in their sleep? What, are you mad? Ouryuu would be on us before long, and their successors would eventually hunt us down too. We could move the village again - ”

“Yeah and maybe this time we could move it to a place where you can actually get a decent harvest” muttered Sora.

“- But it wouldn’t do any good against them. And there is still the current Ryokuryuu himself to worry about.”

"I don't think we need to worry about him, Elder."

“If Ryokuryuu ever does come back, we should capture him again” said Cheol, decisively. “So I’ve always said. Otherwise, there’ll be no one to take care of the next kid, keep him from jumping to the sky and bringing everyone and their damn dog who wants his power down on our heads all over again.”

“That would be fine, if he was ever _going_ to come back” said Sora. “That kid Jae-ha is far away by now, mark my words. Or he would be if he had a grain of common sense. And good riddance.” It sounded like she spat. “It’s alright though. We can still get out of this. His predecessor’s dead and buried - a mercy, that - and when a new kid with the dragon’s foot is born he doesn’t need to know a single thing about any of this. He doesn’t _need_ a predecessor to chase him down, not if we lock him up from the very start. We can commission some new chains, little ones, just to be sure. Old Se-Ho will be glad of the work; it can’t be fun to be a smith if you only cast arrowheads and spades all day. Even if you _are_ a drunk into the bargain.”

Kija was barely listening anymore. His mind was spinning, struggling to take in everything he was hearing.

“Yes, I agree we don't need to worry about Ryokuryuu. But if they’re looking for him, then they won’t leave until they _find_ him, or they find out we lost him” said Jumong. “And when they find that out, then may the Gods have mercy on all of us.”

“They won’t have much” said Cheol glumly.

“That’s as may be” said Jumong, his voice steel-edged. “But it just means we need to get rid of Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, and their companions. Quickly, and preferably without a bloody fuss or a mess. So unless you have any ideas on how to do that, I would urge you to keep silent and let me think.”

For a while there was silence, though Kija could hear the beating of his own heart so loud in his ears that he was sure they must be able to hear it. It was not fear though; it was anger, and confusion. _This place… was it… could it really be? No, surely not. He would find Jae-ha, get him to tell him that it wasn’t true, it was lies, it had to be… or maybe Kija had simply been too quick to jump to conclusions. Yes, that must be it; there must be some other explanation for what he had heard. Jae-ha would be able to explain everything._

“Mind you…” Sora’s voice drifted thoughtfully into the silence, startling Kija. “I don’t blame the kid for running off, with the way that miserable wreck of a man beat his pretty face bloody when the need took him.”

“Yeah” said Cheol. “But the predecessor was just a kid too, practically. Imagine being young, having that power… and then some smug little brat is born who’ll suck the life from you…” he made an exaggerated slurping noise, laughing bitterly. “Just like that. I’d beat him too, if it were me. No, I’d strangle the little bastard in his cradle.”

“Well, it’s just as well you were _not_ born a Ryokuryuu, for us all” said Jumong, who sounded like he was reaching the end of his patience with Cheol, and with the entire situation. “So, if you don’t have anything useful to add…”

But the rest of his words were lost; Kija wasn’t listening anymore. He _couldn’t_ listen anymore. He had heard enough, feeling the blood pounding in his head once more. _Ryokuryuu village. This really was Ryokuryuu village. This, then, was the place where Jae-ha had grown up, the place he had run away from_.

At last Kija could understand why. And it made him _angry_ ; it made him so furious he wanted to break something. The bandages fluttered away as his dragon hand began growing in size and strength, even as the anger and hurt coursed through his blood. He could have sworn the scars on his back were prickling, though they had been healed as long as he could remember.

Sora’s words echoed in his ears. “ _I don’t blame the kid for running off, with the way that miserable wreck of a man beat his pretty face bloody when the need took him_.” A sudden thought struck Kija, with force; _so that was why Jae-ha had reacted the way he did, when he saw Kija’s scars._ He had never quite understood, before.

But now he did.

It explained a lot a lot of things, in fact. He thought about Jae-ha’s joking about chains and beatings, about how none of the others had believed him - even Kija had thought he was exaggerating, being overdramatic as usual. He had pushed the very possibility that Jae-ha might not be to somewhere dark where he would not have to look at it, had turned resolutely away.

Shame burned across his face, and he felt slightly nauseous.

Somewhat dizzily, Kija got to his feet, stumbling a little on the uneven ground as hot blood beat through him, righteous anger rising higher behind his eyes.

Immediately, there came a sharp exclamation from inside the house. “What was that sound? Is someone at the window?”

Kija froze immediately; his fury was one thing, but if they caught him now then they would all be driven from the village. His mind raced as he pressed his back against the wall, hearing the sound of a blade unsheathed. He knew he could simply stand here and fight them - he could easily take all three at once - and he could leave them lying bleeding on the ground. He could make them _pay_. For what they’d done to Jae-ha, for what their ancestors had done to every Ryokuryuu for centuries, like as not.

The idea was, he had to admit, a tempting one.

Kija tensed, his fingers clenching as he squared his shoulders, facing the blank wooden door.

But in that moment, he did not see the rough grain of the timber; instead, he saw a memory. _Sensui; not so very long ago. Hak’s face had been dark with anger, his eyes raw pits of vengeance, and it had taken Kija and Jae-ha both together to hold him back… even that had not been enough, in the end. It had taken the Princess, too, to speak to him, plead with him when reason wasn’t enough. But in the end she had stopped Hak from harming her own greatest enemy._

 _The Princess wouldn’t want me to do this_ , Kija thought, in sudden clarity. Jae-ha wouldn’t either he knew, wouldn’t want Kija to lose himself, even though it was him on behalf of whom Kija’s anger boiled up. _Especially then, maybe_.

And so, even as the door flew open, clattering on its hinges, he was darting around the side of the house, flattening his back against the stones of the farther wall. A lamp flared close by the door, though from here Kija could only see a slip of the circle of golden-orange glow it spilled out onto the ground.

“There’s no one there” said Cheol, sounding annoyed.

Kija tried not to breathe.

“It’s one of _them_ ” said Jumong, steel in his voice once more. “I know it is.”

“How?” asked Sora. “It could just be one of the idiots next door going out to take a piss in the yard, or one of Se-Ho’s boys stumbling back as drunk as their father.”

“No” said Jumong. “I just _know_. It was one of them. It must be.” He took a deep breath, and Kija froze again; as they had been speaking, he had taken the chance of the sounds of their voices to mask the shuffling his shoes made in the gravelly dirt as he edged backwards, away from the light. He could still make it back in time, he could -

“Cheol, Sora, check on our… _guests_ , will you?” Jumong said. “And don’t tell them you were here, or that we had this little chat. Needless to say.”

“Needless to say” agreed Sora briskly, and Kija heard the sound of their receding footsteps, the tap of a spear-butt on the dirt road.

Kija ground his teeth. None of this sounded good. He should get back to the others, to tell them what he had heard, preferably before the villagers reached them. And preferably without making too much of a scene. They weren’t going too fast; they had confidence, apparently, that they would take his companions by surprise. What they would do when they got to them was anyone's guess. Kija slipped around to the other side of the house, as Jumong peered out of the door, raising his lantern higher, hardly daring to breath. After a long while though, the man turned around and and went back inside, closing the door and shutting off the light. From this side of the house, Kija could see Cheol and Sora walking away, in the direction of the others. He glared at their retreating backs; perhaps he would show them a thing or two. Perhaps he could find a shortcut, and beat them there.

And so he set out, leaving the main thoroughfare of the village, threading his way amongst the houses that lined it on either side. Most of them were smaller than the elder’s house, he realised, and many were empty, dilapidated and filthy, their roofs in various states of disrepair. He could barely imagine Jae-ha growing up here, Jae-ha who loved everything fine and beautiful and elegant, and all the sensory delights that the world could offer him.

It must have been cold too, Kija thought, shivering at the chill in the air of the mountain slopes once more. He peered through the doorway of an abandoned stone hut. He had thought it was an outhouse at first, or a pantry of some sort, as it was smaller that Kija’s childhood bedroom - with a low ceiling and no windows - before realising it had once been a home for several people. The worm-riddled door hung from rusted hinges. They screeched too loudly in the silence when he tried to touch it, making Kija wince, drawing hastily back.

A lot of people must have abandoned this place, he thought.

He began half-jogging, half running, but after a while he slowed, then stopped. The buildings had grown taller here; some even had several floors and they were pressed more closely together in narrow, winding lanes. They looked older too, and built of wooden planks rather than the low-ceilinged houses he had seen before. A little way behind him, one of the roofs had fallen in. _Perhaps an earthquake?_ Kija thought. He eyed the ruined roof doubtfully. The damage looked old, and it looked as though something had burst through it.  _Perhaps not an earthquake then. Perhaps some Ryokuryuu of several generations ago, desperate enough to break through a wood and thatch roof to make their escape?_

_How long had the village been like this?_

He frowned, realising that this little cluster of houses was entirely abandoned, and also entirely unfamiliar. He had certainly not seen this as they passed - or perhaps he had, things always looked so different in the daylight - and he did not recognise a bit of it.

Nor did he have any idea of how to get back to the others. He could sense them, a little way off - the main part of the village seemed to be built on several stepped levels, and he had some idea that he was on the same level as they were - but whenever he tried to find a way through this winding network of minute, twisted alleys, he seemed to get turned around, coming back to where he started.

He clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to break something once more. Though he could probably rip down an entire ramshackle wooden building - some of their timbers looked warped and mildewed and worm-eaten enough that they would send the entire edifice toppling if he snapped even one - the thought of the whole structure collapsing on his head was not a tempting one.

He huffed in frustration, turning into an alley he had overlooked before, a tiny, dingy, covered passage between two houses that leaned together overhead. His feet almost slipped on some wet, slimy stone steps. But he managed to keep himself from falling just in time, flinging out a hand for balance.

He didn’t think this was the way, but it was worth a try; at least it was better than wandering that maze for any longer, getting nowhere.

He climbed the steps - their risers a little too high for comfort - wondering where he was going, as he could have sworn the houses he had stood in front of a moment before backed onto the vertical part of one of the terraces in the hillside. It was dark in this passage. Dark and dripping with water, the quiet echoing _plink plink_ sounds reminding him a little of Seiryuu village, and the day they had brought Shin-ah from out of the caves into the light. _Were the other dragon villages really all like this? Had he truly been so lucky?_ Kija was beginning to realise - or perhaps should have realised long ago - that there many things he did not know about the world, and about his own dragon brothers not the least.

His thoughts were interrupted as he blinked in the bright light of the moon once more. Or it _seemed_ bright, at any rate, after that dark passage.

He looked around in disorientation; if he had been trying to get back to the village, he realised, he had gone entirely the wrong way. He stood in a field of open ground that dropped of in a sharp cliff, looking down on the village, the many fences like snaking black lines, circumscribing all. The terrace ended in a gentle dead end on his right where it had simply not been dug any further into the soft earth of the hillside.  

Before that though, there were five strange mounds, covered in grass and marked with flat stones. He went up to one of them, running his hand over its surface, which was dark green with moss. He thought the stone was blank at first, but beneath his clawed fingers the moss came away, revealing a crudely scratched symbol of some sort.

Kija caught his breath.

It was a dragon.

Suddenly, he knew where he was. This was the burial ground of the Ryokuryuu, he realised. He went to another of the mounds; the roughly carved emblem was the same, only this one had a little less moss upon it, was less overgrown. It was the newest of them all, he thought.

 _Jae-ha’s predecessor, then?_ He thought back to the conversation he had overhead in the village.  _The one who had been young even for a dragon warrior, younger, in all probability, than Kija’s own father when he knew he was going to die… the one who had hurt Jae-ha, who had denied him his freedom._

 _Was_ that _the person who was buried here?_

Beside the grave there were several empty spaces, waiting for the generations of the future. A clear plot of grassy ground that was supposed to be for Jae-ha when he died, Kija realised. Just as a beautifully carved, white marble tomb waited for Kija himself, back in his own village. 

Always, the thought of that tomb had given Kija comfort, reminded him he was part of something greater, that had begun long ago and would carry on long after he had left his body behind and returned to heaven. But now, standing here in this place, for the first time in his life the idea of a yawning grave - the dampness and the worms and beetles, the weight of the earth or stone pressing down on his face as his body decomposed - made a shudder of revulsion run up his spine.

Suddenly another thought struck him. _Only five generations buried here?_ His own village had buried every Hakuryuu that had ever lived in those great, white tombs - meticulously maintained and polished - in _their_ burial ground. Rank upon rank of them, carven monuments covering the whole hillside in elegant, calm white brilliance when the sun shone. But not here. _Where were the others, the earlier generations?_ Kija thought back. _Ah, yes_. The Elder had mentioned something about _moving_ the village… Kija almost laughed then. _How very like the village of Ryokuryuu, to simply pick up and move itself away when danger threatened_.

He was immediately ashamed of himself for the thought.  

Kija frowned, looking at the newest grave mound. “I don’t know who you were” he whispered, placing his hand flat on the stone, his claws clicking against its rough surface, “Or what you were like, or how your life was. I don’t even know your name. I… I still have so much to learn, I know that now.“ He took a deep, shuddering breath, thinking of the conversation he had overheard. "I know… I know you hurt Jae-ha. And… I’m _angry_ , I want to…" 

He gritted his teeth. "No, never mind that now. I want you to know, Ryokuryuu… I want you to know, Jae-ha met the one we all waited for, finally, after all these years. King Hiryuu… Princess Yona. All you did, all you waited for… it was not in vain. It wasn’t for nothing.” He drew back, laid his hand on his chest, and bowed low before the line of graves, thinking of Zeno’s words to him about the spirits of the past Hakuryuu generations, then about the Seiryuu spirits trapped beneath the earth, vengeful and hurting. “All of you… Ryokuryuu predecessors, if you are here, if you linger around him… be free. Let _him_ be free. I ask it of you, spirits, as Hakuryuu, your brother in the dragon’s blood.”

As he had expected, there was no response but for the wind whistling across the hillside, stirring the long, unkempt grass at his feet.

Kija sighed, and turned away. From here, he could see far down into the village below; he saw no fighting, no disturbance of any kind. He turned the other way for a moment. To his surprise, he realised he was actually quite close to the house he had seen earlier, the one higher up the slope. _Just up those little winding stairs set into the steep part of the hillside, along the path that skirted the lip of the next terrace up… surely it was the same place_? Immediately the green light of Jae-ha’s presence in his head - much nearer now - confirmed that he was right.

For a moment he was torn, paralysed by indecision. Until now, he had thought to go warn the others in the village. But there was no sign of a fight, or any disturbance at all. Since he was so near, then maybe he should warn Jae-ha of the villagers’ suspicions first, bringing him back to the others, if he wanted to come… Besides, if Yona was with him, then it was better that there were two of them to protect her if something should happen, Kija reasoned. The others would be alright… they had Hak, and Shin-ah, who would surely see any danger long before Kija could reach them now.

And so, without giving himself time to second-guess his decision, he turned away from the graves of Jae-ha’s ancestors, fixing his attention on that living green light instead.

The house - and that in itself was a generous description, for it was more of a hut or a shack really, Kija thought as he walked up to its door - was built of stone, as the elder’s had been. Here the stones were less regular though, cut with no craft at all, built heavy and stout. The place had a low, thatched roof, slightly pitched in the middle, dark with the mildew of disrepair. It all looked utterly desolate and abandoned, down to the cracked wooden bucket that stood toppled outside, long grown over with moss.

Still, realised Kija, the place had obviously stood the weathering of the years much better than some of the abandoned dwellings he had seen in the village. The door was very thick, and was still on its hinges, dry rust-coloured stains spilling down its planks from where the rain sluiced over the heavy iron locks. The walls had not crumbled and the low roof - though it looked waterlogged - was still in place, despite the fact that it seemed likely no one had been here in years.

Kija frowned. He could sense Jae-ha, somewhere nearby. Was he inside this hut? Or was he further up the hillside somewhere? Kija couldn't quite tell. Tentatively, not wanting to call out unless he absolutely had to - something about the place invited silence, sounds falling dead - he gave the door a push, not expecting much. There were three stout-looking locks on it, after all, whose keys had probably all long since rusted away or been lost.

To his surprise though, the door was _not_ locked. It opened inwards under only a little extra pressure from his dragon hand, its hinges screaming in the heavy silence, making him flinch a little. The door swung open on darkness, at first. He stepped warily over the threshold.

There was no one there.

He looked around, frowning. The walls truly were thick; the space within was even smaller than it had looked from outside. The ceiling was lower too; Kija was not particularly tall, and even he had had to stoop a little to avoid hitting his head against the lintel as he entered. Inside there was only his human hand’s breadth between the crown of his head and the shadowy ceiling, where the thatch of the roof joined to the rafters. There were no windows, and it was very dim inside.

Still, there was enough moonlight light spilling onto the floor from the open door to reveal a sight that made his breath catch in his throat.

There were four chains, attached to heavy steel bolts driven deep into the back wall. They were rusted, broken at the ends, but without quite knowing how, Kija was certain they had once been attached to shackles. _Two for the wrists, two for the ankles_? The chains spilled onto a worn sleeping matt, moulding away on the stone floor. 

Beside these things, a old bowl of cracked earthenware, a broken cup. A pair of worn old shoes - about the right size for a child - tossed carelessly into the corner with a jumble of moth-eaten roughspun cloth the colour of river moss. A bundle of woollen cloth - the only thing that was neatly folded - very thinned and worn, of a faded, dirty yellow-brown, though what colour it had been originally he could not say. Two or three very old books, their pages black and swollen with damp, curling up. A cracked comb. A small dark object that he couldn’t quite identify. He leaned down to look, not daring to touch anything, and then frowned when he saw it was tiny irregular doll-figure small enough to fit in a palm, made of clumsily wrapped and twisted rags.

Someone had tried to rip its head off, its neck hanging by threads. One of its legs was missing too, unravelling cloth unspooling from the place where the limb should be.

Suddenly a voice broke into his reverie, making him flinch back, startled.

"Stop right where you are or I’ll shoot you down!”

Kija whirled around, blood boiling in his ears. There was someone silhouetted in the moonlight coming through the open door, a dark outline of a figure with a drawn bow, the glint of an arrow aimed right at him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stop right where you are or I'll shoot you down!"

Kija whirled around, blood boiling in his ears. There was someone silhouetted in the moonlight coming through the open door, a dark outline of a figure with a drawn bow, the glint of an arrow aimed right at him.

For a moment he tensed, his hand growing hot in anticipation of a fight, before the figure lowered its bow, head tilting to one side curiously; moonlight glanced off red hair.

"……..Kija?"

Kija blinked. "P-Princess? Is that you?"

The bow fell to the floor with a clatter, and suddenly Yona was running to him, flinging herself into his arms. "Kija!"

For a moment he let himself be hugged tightly, glad of the touch though the unexpected force of her greeting had caught him a little off balance, stumbling back slightly on the threshold.

After a moment, Yona drew back. "Oh, Kija! I'm so glad you're safe!" She looked him up and down. Rather shamefully, he felt himself blush a little. "Kija, are you alright? Are the others alright? How did you escape?"

"….Escape?"

"Yes, from the village! The villagers captured you all, didn't they?"

"What? No…"

"...No?"

"No, Princess. It wasn't like that, we came here of our own free will."

That seemed to catch her off guard. "…Oh. _Why_?"

"To look for you of course." He looked around. "Where's Jae-ha? He was with you, wasn't he?"

She nodded, and a flash of pain crossed her face. "He… he said he went to scout around and see where they were keeping you, and find a way to break you all out."

Kija started, alarmed. "And he left you here? On your own?"

She nodded. "He didn't want to, but I told him it would be alright." She hesitated. "He brought me to this place because he said it's the one place the villagers don't go. He's afraid though, I know he is. This… this is _his village_ , Kija." Her eyes were very wide and glimmered with tears, and Kija could understand. His heart dropped a little further at her words; until now, he had _almost_ been able to not believe it, to think that even the things he had seen and heard could have some other explanation. But somehow, hearing it from her lips made it real, inescapable.

"I… I think…" said Yona, hesitantly, "I think that though he brought me up here to keep me safe, this place… it brings back bad things for him…"

Kija glanced over his shoulder involuntarily at the clump of shadow behind him, the meagre belongings of a child kept locked in the dark, confined here for half a dragon's short lifespan. Suddenly, Yona was starting in surprise, running her hands over the door frame. She probably couldn't see into the gloom past the doorway, Kija realised, and he found himself very glad of that.

"Oh!" She said, scrutinising the door post. "You managed to get it unlocked after all then? Did you pick the lock with your claws? Or did you just break it?"

Kija frowned, bemused. "No, Princess… it wasn't locked. I only gave it a push."

Yona looked puzzled. "But Jae-ha told me the door was locked, that was why we couldn't hide out in here…" she peered curiously over his shoulder. "Oh! What's that? Is there something over there?"

"No, Princess, please don't - "

But she had already taken a step past him and into the shadowy room, before Kija could stop her. "He told me to stay on the roof, or behind the wall. I was on the slope beyond though, and when I saw someone coming I got my bow, I thought it was…" she stopped, a tiny choking sound escaping her throat as she saw the sight that Kija had seen a minute before.

For a long time, she simply stared, and Kija did not try to draw her away.

When she turned back to him, her eyes were very wide, gingerly touching the end of a chain with the toe of her shoe as though to check it was real. Its coils rattled a little.

"Kija, is this what I think it is… is this… is this Jae-ha's..." she tailed off, looking back at him with wide eyes, glimmering with incipient tears in the moonlight.

"Yes" he said. "Yes, I think so."

He was just about to say more when a shadow flickered across the moon behind him, cutting off the light even as Yona cried out, startled. Immediately Kija was preparing to fight once more, spinning around and throwing himself in front of her.

"Never imagined I'd see you grace a spot like this with your presence, oh brave and noble Hakuryuu." The voice was familiar, but the teasing had a hard edge now, laced with bitterness, something painful and jaggedly torn on the inside. "So. What do you think?"

Kija blinked at the silhouetted figure rising after perfectly sticking a landing on the damp ground outside. "…Jae-ha?"

"Yes. I was never far away from…" he seemed to catch sight of Yona then, his face crumpling. "Yona… ah… you too, then?" He ran his fingers jerkily through the front of his hair, looking to one side. "I should have known a tale about a lock would never be enough to keep you from a place you weren't supposed to be." He frowned, his shoulders slumping as though in defeat. "Ah… I didn't intend for either of you to have to see…"

" _Have to see_?" said Yona weakly, taking Jae-ha's hand in her own. "Have to see? Jae-ha, you know we want to help you get over…" she seemed to seek the right word "…whatever hurt you. It's all past, and you can talk about it… or not, if you…"

But Jae-ha was shaking his head. "No, no, you misunderstand me" he said softly. His eyes were fixed on the chains, and he kicked them lightly, with a forced laugh that sounded painful, "both of you… I never wanted you to see me as… the child that lived here. I like to think that I've grown up a little since then. Become _better_ , even. Still…" he shook his head distractedly, spinning one of his kunai deftly between his finger without looking, apparently unconscious of what his hands were doing. "There's nothing to be done about it now."

"Jae-ha, I didn't know" said Yona. "If I had…"

"You would have come to find me earlier, yes, yes, I know" he said, abruptly. His voice was like broken glass. "Except that you were a child in the palace, and I was able to escape, in the end. So there's no need for guilt." He was frowning, still avoiding both their gazes as his eyes roamed around the room distractedly. Kija realised it was the first time he had been back in… well, it must be thirteen years.

For a while, Kija stood there watching as Jae-ha appeared frozen in time, completely at a loss as to what to do. For all Kija had spoken of brotherhood, of kinship between the four dragons, he was ashamed to say that in this situation - with his upbringing and experience so far from a place like this, a life as the exalted and cherished centre of his village, the love and affection and support he had taken for granted - he felt utterly powerless.

"I… I didn't know" said Kija, a little helplessly. "I didn't…"

Suddenly, Jae-ha's face darkened, eyes turning hard. Dangerous, even. "Oh, you thought I lied?" Forcefully, he drew back his tight-fitted inner sleeve, revealing the knotted silverbands of scar tissue at his wrists, abrasions from something tight about his wrists, long ago. Kija had seen them before, of course; but perhaps, like so many other things he thought miserably, he had chosen to look away. But now Jae-ha was holding them close to his face, so he was forced to look.

"What?" continued Jae-ha recklessly, his voice sounding about to crack with every word. " _What_? Did you assume I made these myself? Was that really easier for you to imagine than to believe me?"

"No!" protested Kija. "It… it wasn't like that."

"Then what _was_ it like?" He laughed, and the sound was cold and hard, almost cruel. "Please explain to me, I'm listening."

"…..I don't know" said Kija helplessly, disturbed by how utterly unlike himself Jae-ha sounded. "I didn't think…."

"You never do, not about the things that matter" muttered Jae-ha. "And here I thought you might be starting to break out of your perfect, cute little world where everything is happy and nice, where being a dragon is the greatest of _honours_ … let me tell you something. You were never chained because you never _needed_ chains. But if you had ever been anything other than a willing slave to your village's idolisation of the ancient times - "

"Jae-ha!" said Yona, sounding shocked.

He seemed not to hear her, his voice jagged and raw. "- But if even for a _moment_ you had thought to escape, or had the power to…" there were tears in his eyes now. "Don't ever doubt they would have chained you up just as tight."

Kija felt his face burn with anger. "Don't you _dare_ say that! My village, my family, they all loved me! They would never, _ever_ have…"

"Oh, they loved you? How sweet, that must have been wonderful."

He was shaking his head, starting to turn away. But as he did, Yona grabbed his sleeve, startling him, making him flinch.

"Jae-ha. _Stop it_." said Yona. Her eyes burned with fire, and Jae-ha seemed caught in them, frozen in the intensity of her gaze. "I know you're hurting. We should never have come to this place. Since we have though, I want to help you through this. But I _won't_ let you say such awful things to Kija. You're only trying to hurt him because you're hurting yourself, and that's never going to help anyone. Besides, you're _better_ than that, Jae-ha." Her grip on his sleeve loosened, and she sighed, staring imploringly up into his eyes now. "I know you are."

There was a long silence.

" _Please_ , Jae-ha. Kija's just as shocked as I am, but he doesn't know how to talk about it either…" Kija could feel his cheeks heating up, tears starting in his eyes, even as he saw Yona wipe distractedly at the tears on her own cheeks. "But we want to help you. The others do to, that's why they came." She hesitated. "I know you're still hurting because Kija grew up with people who loved him, who didn't hurt him. But you have those too, Jae-ha. There are a lot of them. Captain Gigan, she loves you, you found a family and a home in Awa, remember? And then us. We all love you, Jae-ha. I love you, Kija loves you, all the others love you. You'll never have to be in a place like this again. Not ever." The fire came back to her eyes for a moment. "I'm going to make sure of it."

Jae-ha was frozen again, his eyes wide, fixed on Yona. When she opened her arms, his shoulders slumped, and he dropped his head in a weary nod, letting her hold him loosely. "I'm sorry, Yona" he whispered, his voice hollower than Kija had ever heard him speak before. He looked up, scrubbing the heal of his hand frustratedly over his eye and taking a deep, steadying breath. "I'm… I'm sorry Kija. I should never have said any of that. It's not true, and it's not fair. It's this _place_ , it… it gets to me. Makes me worse. Just… just like…" He faltered, gritted his teeth for a moment, and softened a little. "Anyway… you didn't deserve that."

"I might have, a little" mumbled Kija, dropping his eyes. A moment later though, he was taken by surprise as Yona's arm went around him, drawing him into their hug. After a moment, Jae-ha's arm went tentatively about his shoulders too, as though asking for permission. Kija smiled to himself, the tears in his eyes falling freely as he returned the embrace warmly.

For a while, the three of them simply stood there, each taking comfort from the presence of the others.

After a while, Jae-ha drew back with a long, shuddering sigh. He spun his blade once more, tucking it deftly back within his sleeve. "Kija. You came here because the others are trapped?"

"...What?"

"The others. You want me to help you get them out of there. Or am I wrong?"

Kija opened his mouth. "I… yes. I mean, we came here of our own free will, it's not like the Princess said, we didn't get captured…." he rallied at the sight of Jae-ha's raised eyebrow, the ironic twist of his mouth, "before… before we knew…. we thought a village would make a good point for you to find us easily…."

Jae-ha passed a hand over his face. "So that's it then. You following us, us following you, and all the roads lead back here. Might've known."

"Jae-ha - "

At that moment though, a shout came from outside. "You! Ryokuryuu! Your companions too. Come out slowly, hands where we can see them, and don't even _think_ about jumping to the sky. We'll shoot you down."

At the sound of the voice from outside, Jae-ha's eyes went horribly blank for the briefest of instants, before a bitter smile curled across his lips. He turned, slowly, to the open door. There were people out there, Kija saw, down the slope of the hill. Villagers with longbows, in a loose ring, covering the hut from all around.

"Ah, so here we are again. They must have seen me, earlier. I apologise, Yona," murmured Jae-ha as he peered out of the door, so low that Kija barely caught his words.

"What are we going to do?" asked Yona in alarm.

"I'll fight them" said Kija, raising his hand with a smile. "I've been waiting for the chance all night."

"No, Kija" said Jae-ha, his voice strangely calm. "This is my battle, not yours. It's been a long time coming." He sighed. "I'll distract them. You get away."

Yona glared at him. "No. This is a reckless plan. This… this isn't even a plan! You know you can't face their arrows alone."

"If you think that I'm going to let a little threat like that stop me this time… I'm even stronger now, I can do it…"

"Jae-ha, no!" Yona tugged at his sleeve, and he turned to look at her, wide-eyed with surprise. "They'll kill you!"

"Their arrows can't reach me" said Jae-ha, his eyes suddenly very bright, almost fevered, as though he was lost in the past. "I can jump higher than they can shoot, I've done it before…" his words were tumbling over each other too quickly, and their were tears in his eyes again, Kija saw in alarm. Then his face froze, and his gaze seemed to clear.

Then, against all that Kija had expected, Jae-ha laughed.

"….What?"

"Oh, but they're clever" Jae-ha was muttering. "Maybe they even know me better than I do." He shook his head, peering quickly out of the door, craning around to look at the hillside before ducking back inside. "They know that if I stand and fight, there's no way you can get away. We're surrounded. And I…" he looked pained. "…I can't carry both of you."

"Take the Princess" said Kija immediately. "I can block a few arrows, easily…" _And, if need be, I would not hesitate to take an arrow for either of them_. For a moment, he wished he were Ouryuu; yet, he knew, the power he had would have to do. _My wounds may not heal_ , he thought, _but I can at least give them time to get away, if it comes to it_ …

"No, Kija. There are too many of them." Yona tugged on Jae-ha's sleeve. "Jae-ha. Take Kija get back to the others. Maybe I can… reason with them… if they know who I am, that I am… King Hiryuu…. they would listen to me, wouldn't they?"

Jae-ha scoffed. " _Listen_ to you? Yona dear, even if they did listen to you for a moment before shooting you full of holes, they would never _believe_ you. Or if they _did_ believe you were King Hiryuu, that would hardly help your cause. This place… as we all well know, it's not like Hakuryuu village." He gave a pained smile. "No one here ever really had any hope, least of all in the King who left them with this curse." He half-smiled then, an expression that was not too far distant from his familiar gentle, self-assured smirk, Kija thought. "Besides, if you think either Kija or I would even consider leaving you here to face them alone, then you don't know us at all."

Kija nodded. "He's right, Princess."

Yona squared her shoulders at that. She picked up her own bow from the floor, and her dropped arrow, placing it decisively back in her quiver and slinging bow and quiver over her shoulder once more. "Well, if we can't get away, then we'll just have to face them. Together."

"Stay behind us, Princess" said Kija, as they slowly stepped from the hut. He raised his hand, ready to block an arrow, even as he heard the quiet snick of Jae-ha slipping his kunai between his fingers, the quicker to throw the tiny, deadly blades, all the while making sure to curl his hands closed so they would not glint in the moonlight.

And arrow whistled past Jae-ha's head, its wind stirring his hair; it embedded itself in the thatch of the eaves behind him.

"Ha! Their aim is worse than I remember."

"That was a warning shot, I think" said Kija. "Meant to scare us into charging them, so they can justify shooting us from a nice, safe distance."

"Yes, a rather ugly tactic indeed" said Jae-ha, his mouth curving into a smile. "And it's not going to - _Ah! Kija!_ "

Pain, exploding at Kija's shoulder and making him gasp and choke on his breath, some great force knocking him backwards. It was only after a moment had passed that he saw the arrow shaft, embedded in his right shoulder, the moonlight draining the colour from the patch of blood spreading quickly from where it was pierced him, turning it into a patch of darkness that was stark against the white of his robe. For a moment he gasped like a landed fish, simply staring at it; his dragon hand was growing in size once more, but when he tried to lift his arm, the pain nearly made him black out.

"Kija!" Yona was screaming, as he stumbled to his knees, Jae-ha drawing a longer blade, using its flat to block another arrow that had sailed through the place where Kija's head had been, just moments before. "Kija? Can you hear me? Jae-ha, help him… Hak? Where are you Hak? Shin-ah, Zeno…" she was trying to stop the blood, pressing her hand to the place. He gave an involuntary, strangled shriek as pain ripped through him at that, and she immediately pulled her hands away, horror on her face. "We'll… we'll get you to Yoon, he can fix it. He can fix anything. He'll bandage you up, Kija, you'll see, you'll be alright, you'll be alright…"

Her hands were slippery with blood - his own blood, thought Kija blearily - holding him up, stopping him slipping further to the ground even as she said it, and he cursed himself for being so weak. _All they had needed to do was take out his right arm… he was so vulnerable, so useless. No, worse than useless like this… such a burden_ …

Jae-ha was blocking arrows with his dagger in his right hand, throwing knives with his left in a bright, deadly volley. His face almost frightened Kija when he caught a glimpse of it; his eyes were wide, filled with panic and fury mingled together, turning that face - usually so calm, so quick to a teasing smile - into a terrible, twisted mask. The sight of his friend, his _brother_ , like this made him shudder, turning his face away.

Again, he tried to pull himself to his feet; Yona let him lean on her shoulder, and he did, gratefully, conscious of only the merest twist of guilt as she took some of his weight.

He got to his feet, finally, almost stumbling again, before steadying himself by willpower alone. He braced himself against the wall, wrapping his left hand around the arrow's shaft, steeling himself to wrench it out of his shoulder.

"No, don't!" Jae-ha shouted at him, as he dodged another arrow. "If you pull it out now you'll bleed to death before we can get out of this!"

The words took a moment to permeate his stunned consciousness, but when they did Kija blanched, dropping his hand abruptly. Shock, he supposed, some part of his mind strangely detached. He had heard something like that once, he thought. Or had he? He couldn't focus. In his head he was screaming, memories jumbled with the present. _No, it was happening again, this was just like Kin province when that sword cut had nearly killed him, and hadn't he promised himself then that he would be stronger, that he wouldn't let others fight while he lay helpless on the battlefield? Not even Zeno was here to save them now. And hadn't Jae-ha been through enough at the hands of these people?_

Yona was firing arrows back now, but her quiver was nearly empty. Their attackers still hadn't advanced, Kija realised with a chill, as he squinted into the dimness. They were backed up against a wall, trapped. Even behind the house, there was only the steep hillside, where more archers were stationed, who hadn't even begun to fire on them. They wouldn't run out of arrows. By the time the dawn came the three of them would be dead if this carried on, one of the arrows inevitably slipping past Jae-ha's blocking and finding its mark.

There was only one way out.

"J… Jae-ha…" Kija managed to stammer. With a great, agonising effort, he raised his right arm, gasping at the pain as the arrowhead moved within his shoulder joint and clinging to the rough stone of the wall behind him for balance with his other hand. He only hoped he would not faint. "Jae-ha!" he called out. "T-take… take the Princess and go… leave me…"

"No!" shouted Yona, firing an arrow and ducking as another came whistling past, glancing off the wall. She picked it up and fired it back, before coming to his side. "No, that's not a deadly wound, people survive things like that all the time. Yoon told me."

"I can… I can be a distraction, while you and Jae-ha escape. _Please_ , Princess. Let me do this…"

"Kija, don't say such awful things. There's another way, there's got to be… Hak will come…"

"He'll never reach us in time" said Kija. Everything seemed clear suddenly.

Yona was hesitating, he could see, her head bowed, and he feared for her as Jae-ha was surely tiring now, some of his blades lost in the overgrown grass.

But then Jae-ha's voice broke in from above. "No. Kija, I am _not_ leaving you here, to jump off into the sky. I am not. Nor anyone else." He took a deep breath. " _Especially_ not here. Never again."

Kija frowned. "Again?" he asked, wincing as an arrow sang past them and Jae-ha leapt to one side to avoid it. "When did you - "

But his words were lost, as a scream came from the line of their attackers, high and thin in the wind that was suddenly rising.

A blade, flashing in the first cold grey light that comes before the dawn. Then another, two men fighting back to back.

Yona's face was jubilant, shining. "Hak! Shin-ah! See, Kija, I told you they'd come."

Jae-ha's face broke into a smile. "Perfectly on time."

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Several villagers fled down the hill, but some simply dropped their bows and stared; they weren't really fighters, Kija realised now, only hunters and fisherman, farmers whose crops had failed.

One man was still firing arrows though, in all directions, consumed by frenzied panic. Their angle was off, too high, so that they soared in arcs into the air before falling harmlessly to the ground.

Or most of them did.

Suddenly, one arrow was coming straight for Yona, whistling out the darkness above, for the moon had disappeared now; it was nearly morning. Kija realised he was crying out a warning, a wordless cry of fear, frozen in the stretched-out instant before it fell to earth. _He was too far away, he could not make it even the short distance to throw himself in front of her, not like this_...

But then there was something else blocking out his vision; a golden blur, hurtling from the roof above and behind them, dropping down into Kija's field of view, into the path of the arrow. Zeno spun as he fell, limbs curled up into a ball then splaying out as he came close to the ground, in order to shield Yona as fully as possible with his small body. Kija braced himself for the impact, for the arrow to hit Zeno; though he knew his brother could heal quickly, and wouldn't die, he always hated to see him hurt.

Except, perhaps, the arrow would not hit Zeno after all.

Kija saw it an instant before it happened; saw Jae-ha look up, saw his purple eyes flicker between the arrow and Zeno, judging the distance in the way he was so good at. Kija remembered the last time Jae-ha had tried to protect Zeno; even though he knew their golden brother would not die, Jae-ha had let himself be attacked by a bear in his place.

A chill went through Kija, as Jae-ha jumped, propelling himself upwards from the ground. _The arrow… he's heading right towards it, from the side, it'll surely hit him_ … "Jae-ha! No!" he tried to shout, but he wasn't sure if he had spoken out loud or merely screamed the words inside his own head. _No, no no…. no, Jae-ha, please, don't_ …

Kija almost couldn't look; time seemed to slow as the arrow arced closer, fractions of seconds stretching to years. He certainly couldn't move, and he was dimly aware that Yona, too, was frozen by shock. He braced himself to see Jae-ha's blood, spilled on the overgrown, damp grass outside the hut. He wanted to look away, but he knew he must see this through; he owed Jae-ha that much at least.

But the shot never found its mark.

Jae-ha landed on the other side of a stunned-looking Zeno, his feet sinking deep into the grass. Slowly, he opened his fingers, looking almost surprised as he let the arrow he had caught perfectly by its shaft tumble to the dewy green turf at his feet. "No" he said, so quiet that only the few of them clustered close could hear. His eyes went soft and thoughtful as he looked down to where the arrow had fallen at his feet. "No more."


	4. Chapter 4

“Thank you, Shin-ah. Is that the last of them?”

Zeno watched as Shin-ah nodded, looking down at the three small blades in Yona’s hands, wrapped in a cloth. “The rest… we found already… in the grass…”

“Good” said Yona approvingly. “These people have no shame, trying to steal Jae-ha’s most precious weapons…” her face twisted. “On top of… everything else.”

Zeno watched Hak standing guard, a stern, vigilant figure, as Yona freed the people they had tied up and carried back to the village. There had been a few that had been killed by one of Yona’s arrows or Jae-ha’s blades, or by Hak or Shin-ah at the last. But there were not as many bodies as Zeno had expected, and he was glad of that. These people… they may be harsh, even cruel, but he couldn’t help but want to save them nonetheless. After all, they were all the very distant descendants of Shuten, who had been Zeno’s friend and brother; they all had at least a dash of the dragon’s blood in them, blood which Zeno didn’t want to spill unnecessarily.

Besides, he knew, they were scared. This whole village was so full of fear, and had been for so long. You could practically smell it in the air.

He watched Yona as she walked amongst them, and, one by one, she cut their bonds. Each one hurried back to join their families, most everyone in the village clustered about the corners of the main square.

Yona had, after all, called them there.

When she was finished, and all the prisoners had been released, she went over to Jae-ha. She placed the little cloth-wrapped bundle in his hands. “These are the last ones” she said. “That should be all of them, but let me know if you’re missing any.”

Jae-ha nodded and opened the bundle, to reveal the remaining kunai, the last three. All the others they had found when Jae-ha and Shin-ah had returned to the grassy field outside the hut to look, or reclaimed when they were tugged out of the cold flesh of the dead or extracted from the wounds of those who had survived. But these, apparently, had been pocketed by the fleeing villagers. Still, it hadn’t taken Shin-ah long to search them out, the terrified would-be thieves immediately yielding up the blades when Shin-ah’s masked gaze swept over them, picking them from the crowd with preternatural ease.

Jae-ha smiled at the sight of the blades when they were returned to him, slipping them carefully back into the lining of his changshan. “That is all of them now. Thank you, Yona.”

She nodded. “You wouldn’t want to lose something Captain Gigan gave you.”

“And with you and Shin-ah around I never will, I’m certain.”

The silence amongst the people watching them was tense, expectant, as Jae-ha went to stand beside Yona, on her other side from Hak. Shin-ah took his place protecting Yoon and Kija, the bandage on Kija’s wounded shoulder bulky under his clothes, a reminder of the ordeal of the previous day.

Zeno had to admit he had been truly afraid when he had seen the blood soaking the sleeve of Kija’s robe; he wouldn’t put it past a descendent of Guen’s to be reckless, or to think it was his lot and duty to die in battle, sacrificing himself for his friends; the thought alone tugged like a fishhook in Zeno’s heart.

Even more so when he had had to watch Hak hold Kija still so that Yoon could pull the arrow shaft out of his shoulder and bind up the wound before Kija could lose too much blood. It was a hunting arrow; it would never have been able to punch through a soldier’s armour, but its point was sharp and barbed at the back, embedding itself in Kija’s unprotected shoulder - just beneath the collarbone - so that it could not be pulled out or broken off easily. Even with a heavy dose of one of Yoon’s infusions, it came out agonisingly slowly, widening the wound, making Kija cry out in pain as it finally came free. Yona had clasped his human hand very tightly through it all, his dragon’s claws embedded in the woven matt and the ground beneath. Even the Hakuryuu spirits that drifted about Kija at all times were whimpering and jostling and crying out in distress, though Zeno knew no one else could see those.

Still, the arrow _had_ come out, at last. Yoon’s teeth were gritted by the end, his face pale and sheened with cold sweat, and his eyes wet with tears. _The Lad always felt so much, though he never let it get in the way of helping people._ It was enough to make Zeno’s heart ache.

But despite all that, Yoon had bound the wound well, and the bleeding had stopped more quickly than even he had expected.  

Zeno knew this, but still he hated seeing them suffer. He always wished he could take their pain on himself, throw himself in front of every threat to them - as he was supposed to - but sometimes he could not make it in time; it would always be so, he knew. Even though Shin-ah had been there to see the danger to the others, pointing out of the window at the archers who were trooping up the hill. Even as Shin-ah had led them all through the shortcut he had found, holding Zeno’s hand as they climbed slippery, stone stairs up the terraced hillside in the dark, the _tak tak tak_ of the base of Hak’s glaive against the paving stones doing nothing to relieve the tension in that winding and narrow passage. Still, they had reached the place where Jae-ha, Kija and Yona were fighting in time to help them.

 _This time, it had been enough, just. But someday Zeno could be too late_ … _must be, even._

He was so often too late, he thought, his eyes flickering to Jae-ha once again. Gods knew he had already been too late before, when Jae-ha had been nine years old and Zeno had left him there chained to the cold floor. He had been too late even then, left him suffering for too long, then left him behind all over again. And he had certainly been too late for Garou, for every Ryokuryuu for two thousand years.

He watched Jae-ha lean over and say something that made Kija smile. Both looked weary, but better than they had. _Still_ , he thought, _though Zeno might have been too late, it had perhaps not_ been _too late, not for this particular Ryokuryuu. That little child had saved himself, in the end, simply by having the courage to be free. To keep on running until he was somewhere better, with people who were kind, and not burdened by pain and the weight of a legacy turned to sour poison by the centuries_.

Zeno knew it was not enough, that he himself could never be forgiven. That he was still working himself up to be able to speak to Jae-ha about it. That maybe he would never have the courage, until it was too late to put it right, yet again.

But it was something, at least.

His thoughts were interrupted by Yona’s voice, raised and carrying in the dead silence that had fallen. “People of the village of Ryokuryuu” she said. “I am…” she looked around at Hak, who gave her an encouraging smile. “I am King Hiryuu come into this world again. I am… the one you have been waiting for all these generations as you…” she sounded as if the next word tasted bad in her mouth, “… _protected_ each Ryokuryuu generation.” Her face darkened. “Or that was the task that was given to you. But you have failed. Jae-ha suffered at your hands, as did many generations before him.” She took a breath, drawing herself up tall. “And I will fight until my last breath to make sure that never, ever happens again.”

“How?” Came a mocking voice from the crowd, dripping with bitterness. “Will you have us all killed and paint the streets with blood for the sake of one lousy kid, oh merciful and good queen?”

“You will _not_ speak to her like that!” flared Kija, stepping forward. At the same time, Hak gripped his glaive a little tighter; clearly he would like nothing better than to get another chance to fight these people. Shin-ah held himself poised and perfectly still with his hand raised to lightly touch the hilt of his sheathed sword, but a slight twitch of his mouth that Zeno had learned to recognise told him that Shin-ah was as tense as the others. Yoon was still pale and worn-looking, as though plagued by weariness, the bone-deep exhaustion he always felt when he took the others’ pain on himself. That was also something Zeno had learned to recognise in the boy who patched all the others up when they were hurt, who cared so much it half broke his heart every day.

All the while, Jae-ha remained uncharacteristically silent, his eyes staring fixedly at the crowd of villagers, slightly tilted as though he had been frozen midway through some gesture.

Still, at a look from Yona, the others subsided a little.

“No, I will not have any more blood spilled here, not unless anyone tries to hurt my friends again” she said, keeping her icy calm as she swept the watching villagers with that burning gaze of hers. “And I cannot undo the past. But when a new Ryokuryuu is born, Jae-ha will know. And so _I_ will know. We will be watching, and we will come for the child. But if anyone has harmed a single hair on his head, well… I assume I don’t need to repeat what the four dragon warriors are capable of.”

Her words fell into silence for a long, long moment. When Yona spoke again, it was with a little less ice in her voice, though it had lost none of its strength. “There’s hunger here. You don’t have enough food to feed yourselves, I know. My friend Yoon and I can help with that. He learned of a crop called Iza, which grows in Sen province of the Kai empire, but can survive in the harshest of soils. It’s already helping to ease the famine in the Fire Tribe lands, and it can help you too. Yoon can give you some of its seeds, and we can teach you how to cultivate it. That should be enough to feed all the people here, and more. You can drop the secrecy now and trade with neighbouring villages, as without a Ryokuryuu in the village, no one will target you, so long as you are careful.”

She folded her arms, as whispers ran amongst the people like smoke. Jae-ha was smiling, Zeno thought, a subtle, lopsided smile from under his lashes, looking almost… wistful? Amused? Zeno wasn’t sure.

“Miss” said Elder Jumong, his eyes narrowed suspiciously even as he deferred to her in grudging admiration. “This is all very well, but what will you ask in return for this? This kindness can’t come free.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s much more than you deserve” said Yona, steel in her voice. “But if plentiful food means that no one has to live like this anymore, then so be it.” She glared at him. “Please believe me when I say it’s not for _you_. It’s so that the village can sustain itself and you don’t have to resort to starving your children. It’s so that you can survive through the times when you need to hide the power of the dragon from those who would take it, if things turn bad again. It’s security. It's… it’s freedom. And that’s everyone’s right.”

Zeno smiled, wiping away the tears that started in his eyes with a sleeve, as old words echoed in his head, words that he had felt more than heard, through a dragon’s ears long ago. _Even though they may hate me, betray me… I cannot help but love them_. There was so much kindness in her, he thought, as there had been in him. And that was the only real weapon of any use against the fear that ate into this place like a malignant worm. Violence and wars could come and go, but kindness was more revolutionary than any of it, the only thing in this world that was really able to change it for the better. To free instead of confine.

The elder’s eyes were narrowed. “You speak prettily. But what do you want in return?”

“All I want from you” said Yona, firmly, “is no more shackles, and no more chains. For anyone.”

“I’d listen to her if I were you” said Jae-ha, lifting his head. He _was_ smiling, Zeno saw, a knowing, proud smile, with a glimmer of danger in it. “If it was anyone else, you’d be dead by now.”

“You ungrateful scoundrel” snarled Jumong. “This village raised you as it did every one of your predecessors, though you were the reason we had to hide. You put the entire village in danger, and what do you give us? You bring this… this impetuous little girl with ideas above her station to condescend us, bring in those other… _monsters_ , to kill our people, and then leave?” He spat at Jae-ha’s feet. “Don’t think you can get away that easily. By the blood that runs in your veins, you’ll always be one of us. And if you think we’re bad, then surely that makes you the very worst of all.”

“Perhaps that’s true” said Jae-ha mildly, gesturing to subdue the others who were all advancing on the man, anger crackling in their eyes. Yet Jae-ha was spinning a blade between his fingers, almost unconcernedly. “But I’ve rather given up worrying about who or what the blood I was born with makes me. These days, I prefer to decide who I want to be myself.”

“After all these years, you’re still an arrogant, self-centred little brat, I see. Fine, then leave quickly so you will not endanger us any longer. And good riddance to you.”

Jae-ha turned on his heel, bowing mockingly and returning to Yona’s side. “And to you.”

The Elder simply glared at his retreating back, furious; there was nothing he could do though, and Zeno was certain everyone there knew it. 

 _That’s it_ , thought Zeno, feeling his heart swelling with pride as he watched them walk from the square. _That’s the end. They truly cannot touch him, anymore_.

* * *

It had been several days since they had left the village, but for Jae-ha, the memories it had brought back were slow in departing.

 _Don’t bother fighting_ , Garou had said, years ago, as he dropped the struggling, kicking, shrieking child in a breathless heap on the hard floor. While Jae-ha was winded, whimpering and sobbing in pain and fury, Garou would always take the chance to slip his chains back on, the click of them making something inside Jae-ha break a little more with each failed escape attempt. _Don’t bother fighting, and it’ll hurt less for you_. 

Garou had finished chaining the child back up to the wall, and he had clasped Jae-ha’s chin so that he was forced to meet Garou’s eyes, so dark purple they looked almost black and opaque in this dim light in the hut. There were always shadows under Garou’s eyes too, his skin pale and sickly looking, his eye sockets set deep. Hunger pinched his face and made his cheekbones jut a little more every year. _It’ll be over soon. Just let it happen; none of us last long, you wouldn’t have much of a life even if you did get out of here_. _If you can’t even do that, learn to disappear inside yourself._

 _That helps_. 

Garou had swept Jae-ha’s hair back from his face then, touched him gently on the top of the head, stood, turned, and left him there to get them their allowance of food.

That had been early on, though. In those last years, Garou had never been quite that gentle.

Jae-ha had used to try to learn to disappear inside himself when Garou hit him, blood tasting like iron in his mouth. Those times hadn’t been as bad as the nights though. It was not the cold, or the hard floor, nor even the rubbing of his chains against his wrists. Nor was it the hot, painful beating of blood in whichever cut or abrasion had become infected that day, inflamed and swollen. It was not those, for he was used to all of those things.

No; it was the thought that this is what it would be like, forever.

 _Disappear inside_ … well, he had _tried_ , but that was difficult when you were a child who wanted nothing more than to get _out_ ; to burst free from the confines of all that he had known all his short life. Maybe some people could do it; he thought he might admire someone like that, who could truly bear pain, let it simply glance off them, standing steadfast all the while. He was not like that though; he simply felt everything so _much_ , felt pain so acutely. His instinct was to flinch, to evade, to run… it had always been that way, and always would.

Captain Gigan had saved him by telling him that the people who run aren’t always wrong in doing so. _Sometimes, it’s the ones who stay and let the world chip away at their hearts that are the idiots_ , she had said. Pain was easier to bear, after that; outside the village, pain was a different thing altogether, sharp, stinging, vital. Sometimes he thought it was just another kind of pleasure, akin to something like music or soft-rippling bright silk under his fingers, or fine sake, or falling into bed with a beautiful stranger. The icy wind on his face high up in the air at sunrise, the clean sting of saltwater in a cut, or the moonlight in the waters of the harbour on a warm summer’s night. Indivisible, bright sensation, reminding him that he was alive, at least for a few more years.

But to simply disappear inside himself, and let it wash over him… well, either way, that was something he’d never been able to do.

Except perhaps lately, it seemed, when he’d been rather more prone to daydreaming than usual.

Kija’s voice broke into his reverie suddenly, reminding him of the others walking by his side.

“Shin-ah, do you need me to carry that pack again? Or I could take the tent poles, Jae-ha…”

“Kija!” snapped Yoon, rounding on Kija as they walked through the shady forest. “How many times do I have to tell you, your wound isn’t healed yet! Do you want to bleed all over your clothes again? Zeno gives me enough trouble with that as it is…” he muttered, resignedly. “…And at least he owns _some_ clothes that aren’t white.”

Jae-ha almost smiled; though Yoon grumbled, today there was no heat in it. Like the rest of them, Yoon was just glad to see Kija alive, and Jae-ha back to his usual self.

He had been trying hard to appear so, anyway.

The village had taken him by surprise. If he was to have decided how he was to return there, in what circumstances to see all that again… _well_ , he thought with a small smile to himself, _I wouldn’t have chosen to return there at all_.

He shook his head, a little angry with himself, thinking about the way Captain Gigan rolled her eyes at people who mooned their lives away on _should-haves_ and _might-have-beens_.

Still, he wished that the others had not had to see that place, hadn’t had to set foot there.

 _…Hadn’t had to see Jae-ha that way_. Those parts of his life had been so ugly, and he had thought for so long that he’d let them behind.

 _A childish notion of course; pure wishful thinking. A dragon warrior, born with an ancient legend in his very blood, is the last person who can leave the past behind_.

Even as he had that thought, he noticed Zeno watching him intently for the first time that night.

The others were all watching him with more concern than usual, of course; they thought he didn’t notice, but he did. He was rather surprised to find he didn’t mind it as much as he had thought he would.

Zeno though. His eyes on Jae-ha were different. Less outright pity and sympathy, which Jae-ha was glad of, but more of something else, something that Jae-ha couldn’t quite place, deep in those eyes, ancient and inscrutable. Sometimes they even unnerved him more than Shin-ah’s did, those old, old eyes of Zeno's.

That had been the first time Jae-ha had noticed Zeno’s scrutiny that night, but it was not the last. As they made camp that night, as Yoon passed them all bowls of rice and vegetables, as the fire danced in bright warmth in the night air, Zeno’s eyes seemed to always flicker backwards and forwards from him. Zeno himself seemed restless, his movements quicker. There was a very subtle tension in the way he held himself tonight, like one of the old battle-weary, ragged-eared stray cats that lived on the streets and rooftops of Awa, the ones that always expected a blow, ready for a fight.

After a few hours, everyone else had drifted off to the tent to sleep, but Jae-ha sat crossed legged on the sandy ground beside the river, as the fire burned down and the moon rose. Jae-ha leaned back where he sat, stretching his legs out before him and staring up at the moon’s light. It was bright and close-looking, nearly full, tinged almost yellow tonight.

He sat, and he waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

“A pleasant night” Jae-ha said mildly after a while, into the empty air. “Seems a shame to waste it on sorrows.”

After a moment, Zeno hopped lightly down from the blot of shadows in the bough of a tree overhanging the river bank. He landed in the shallows with a splash and waded back to the join Jae-ha, shaking water from his shoes and the hem of his tunic and robe.

Zeno sat down beside him drawing his skinny knees up to his chest and hugging them, staring out over the water. When he spoke he did not look at Jae-ha. “What makes Ryokuryuu think Zeno is sorrowing?”

Jae-ha gave a quiet scoff. “You’re very transparent, old man.”

Zeno darted him a rather sharp look. “Then Zeno shall take care to be more opaque in future.”

Jae-ha laughed. “On second thoughts, don’t take that too much to heart. You’re already quite cryptic enough for my taste.” He narrowed his eyes. “What is it though… really? Were you thinking about the village?”

“Was Ryokuryuu _not_ thinking about it?”

“Oh, of course not. I have no idea _what_ you’re talking about.”

Zeno laughed, grudgingly, turning the silence a little warmer. Jae-ha let it stretch out for a little while, but he frowned. He had always counted himself as good at reading people; he had learned by trial and error, trying to read Garou’s moods, which were unpredictable as the lightning and the wind in a summer storm.

Zeno was in many ways even more difficult though. _Ouryuu, what goes on in that head of yours_?

“Are you thinking about the first Ryokuryuu then?” tried Jae-ha. “About how he’d be scandalised and horrified by all this?” Jae-ha knew nothing of the first Ryokuryuu; the person Zeno must surely compare him to with every glance. He was not sure he _wanted_ to know.

Zeno opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if he had changed his mind, making Jae-ha think he had not struck so far from the mark. “Not quite, no. Guess again…”

Jae-ha gave a theatrical sigh. “Are you really going to make me guess? How childish.” He was about to tease Zeno a little more, when he saw the solemn look on his face, and stopped short. “Zeno…”

“To tell the truth, Zeno was thinking about the Ryokuryuu predecessors, and… how… how it came to this.” The words seemed difficult for Zeno to get out. “When Zeno was in the world, and could have… could have helped…”

Jae-ha’s stomach clenched. _Oh, so he feels guilty too. Well, it figures._ “It’s alright. My predecessor never told me much about the history of the village - I guess he didn’t know much himself - but I think it was better in the past, long ago.”

Zeno nodded distractedly. “Yes, perhaps, perhaps. But if Zeno starts seeing people’s lives as the era they lived in, he is already lost. Zeno regrets…” the embers glowed in reflected spots in Zeno’s eyes. “…Zeno regrets never learning the names of any of the dragons since the beginning time. _Using_ them might have… been harder for Zeno, but _knowing_ them, at least. If…” Zeno took a deep, shuddering breath. “If Zeno could go back…”

“No use thinking about going back. It’ll drive you mad. _Especially_ you.”

“…If Zeno could go back, he would know the names of all of you after Shuten, every single one all the way to Garou, and then Jae-ha. Zeno would have _been_ there, if Zeno had known how…”

But Zeno’s words had faded into the night as Jae-ha felt a roaring rise in his ears. He felt very hot, then very cold, as though a bucket of ice water had been tipped over him. A realisation had just hit him with a great force.

“…Zeno….?” he said, shakily. “I… I don’t remember ever telling you my predecessor’s name was Garou.”

“What?”

“I never… said his name” said Jae-ha, wracking his brains. But the more he thought, the more certain he became, foreboding rising in him. He frowned. “ _How did you know his name?_ ”

Zeno blinked. For a moment, his face betrayed nothing, then a horror crossed it, fear mixed with desperation, mixed with something Jae-ha could have sworn was _relief_ , though why Zeno should be relieved was utterly beyond him. He stared back at Zeno, nonplussed.

Zeno sighed, the fire’s embers glowing brighter once more. “Ryokuryuu. Zeno thinks it’s time… past time we had a talk.”

“About what?”

“About something that happened, something Zeno did - or _didn’t_ do - a long time ago.”

Jae-ha looked at him doubtfully. “You’re being vague again, Zeno. Exactly how long is a _long time_ , for you?”

Zeno thought for a moment. “….About sixteen years, in this case.”

Jae-ha nodded, perplexed. “Alright. Tell me.”

Again, Zeno hesitated. “It… might make Ryokuryuu think differently about Zeno.”

He almost laughed at that. “Zeno, I feel as thought I think differently about you every week, for one reason or another. And if you’re worried about me hating you, then don’t.”

Zeno was taking deep breaths, as though trying to calm himself, Jae-ha saw in some alarm.

“….It might take some time to tell.”

“Ah… just _tell_ me, Zeno.” He gestured at the night air, the river running by, the glow of the embers of the fire. “After all, tonight… we’ve got time.”


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so several people expressed interest in seeing this scene so I did my best! Tentatively called an epilogue because it's slightly outside of the main story, but anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

“Ah… just _tell_ me Zeno. After all, tonight… we’ve got time.”

Zeno nodded, slowly, though he didn’t seem any happier. He was still looking away, at the stream running past perhaps, but after a moment he blew out his breath and looked Jae-ha in the eye at last. 

“Zeno… knew something of the village of Ryokuryuu, before. Zeno… might have been able to prevent…” he gestured expansively, and somewhat desperately in the air, “…some of what happened, these last days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Zeno at least… knew the location of the village. If Zeno had recognised those woods in time, told the Miss we should camp somewhere else, maybe, carry on a little further before dusk, then Zeno could have prevented - ”

But Jae-ha was shaking his head. “No, Zeno. Don’t do that. It…” he clasped and unclasped his hands before him, taking a deep breath. “It happened. And… I won’t say that it was good for me to see those people again…” he gave a bitter laugh. “But I think it was good for them to see _me_ again. And between my beautiful self and our dear Princess we surely gave them something to think about.”

“Mmm” said Zeno doubtfully, looking away again. “True… but it’s not that.”

Jae-ha blinked. “Then what is it?”

“Zeno… might have been there before. Zeno knew… some of what the village of Ryokuryuu was like. Could have made things easier, perhaps…”

“You mean that you’ve been there before?”

Zeno seemed to be steeling himself. “…Yes.”

“Oh. Did the original Ryokuryuu show you the village he founded then, all those years ago?” he frowned. “No, wait, it wouldn’t have been the same village… it moved, a few generations back…” he looked up at Zeno questioningly, waiting for an explanation. 

Zeno was shaking his head. “Zeno never visited Ryokuryuu… Shuten… in those last years. Zeno heard that he became a wanderer in the end, leaving home and family behind to travel while his power still allowed him to.” 

Jae-ha gave a reluctant laugh. “Well, I can’t say I blame him for that.” But his smile died as Zeno spoke again. 

“No, it wasn’t that. Zeno’s been to the village before. The… the current village.”

Jae-ha’s eyes widened. “You’ve been there?” And that was how you knew…” he thought back. _Zeno had known Garou’s name_ … “You were there in my predecessor’s time? You knew Garou?”

“Zeno… wouldn’t say he _knew_ predecessor Garou, as such. _Saw_ him… perhaps, perhaps.”

Jae-ha’s heart dropped. _No. Not now. Not again_. He had thought he had laid these feelings to rest a long time ago, _but it took so little to bring them all rushing back.._. “But you were there in his time?”

“Well…” said Zeno. “Yes and no.”

“You’re being cryptic again.” Jae-ha frowned. “Did you know Garou, or didn’t you?” 

“…”

“Look, if you saw him as a child, chained to a wall, you can tell me, alright?” his mouth twisted into an ironic smile. “It’s not like I didn’t know about the chains in that place, or what happened to Ryokuryuu kids that took it into their heads to try to jump to freedom.” He looked at Zeno. “Oh… I’m right, aren’t I? You _did_ see Garou?” He swallowed, gritting his teeth, determined not to fall apart. _Not after all this_. “In… in his chains.” Another thought struck him, more horrible than the last. “And… and you _left_ him there…?”

He peered at Zeno’s face, the glimmer of tears reflecting the last embers of the fire telling him all he needed to know. Or so he thought for a moment, until he realised that Zeno was shaking his head. 

“No, Ryokuryuu.”

“…No?”

“No. Close, but that isn’t quite it.”

“Then what?”

“Zeno… _did_ find a Ryokuryuu chained to the floor, in that very same hut. Zeno  _did_ leave him behind. But… it wasn’t Garou.”

“Then who… oh.” Jae-ha went quiet for a long moment.  _Oh._ Belatedly, he remembered what Zeno had said; _about sixteen years ago. “…._ It was me, wasn’t it.”

Zeno nodded, very slowly, and for a long while more there was silence, heavy as a stone. 

After a moment, Jae-ha passed a hand over his face with a sigh. Suddenly he felt very tired, pain congealing within him like a sickness, as a memory from his childhood came back with force. The vivid dream he had had that one night, the one that he had remembered because it was so unlike his usual flickering nightmares and half-formed fears that chased him and bound him paralysed on the floor when he awoke, gasping for breath. This dream hadn’t been like that. Instead, the scaled head of a great golden-yellow dragon had looked down at him, its tail coiling about him, a strangely gentle, protective touch. He had certainly not felt afraid. And though the nights were beginning to draw in to winter, and it bitterly cold in the stone hut - Jae-ha remembered he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be warm, some of those winters - he _had_ felt warm in that dream, as though he was lying in a patch of sunshine on a summer afternoon. 

That was how he had known it was just a dream, in the end; the warmth of it. When he had woken, there was a stranger’s cloak covering him; not very warm, and rather threadbare, but certainly better than nothing. He had never understood what had happened, and could only assume Garou had put it there, though Garou denied it and Jae-ha had never seen him wear such a cloak himself. He frowned. “When I was about nine, I found… a cloak. It appeared from nowhere, one night. That was you?”

Zeno nodded. “Zeno saw Ryokuryuu was cold. Zeno could see him shiver, in his dreams.”

Jae-ha gazed off to one side. He wanted to laugh in pain, or cry. He wanted to break something apart. He wanted to shake Zeno, but he held himself perfectly still, trying to take even breaths. “Garou was… well, he was _angry_. Was  _convinced_ I’d gotten out somehow, though he couldn’t work out why I’d come back. Wouldn’t believe me when I said that I had no idea where it came from.”  _Garou’s anger always flared fierce then blew itself out like a summer storm. He had not enough energy in him to keep him angry for long, the end too close at his heels. Jae-ha at least knew well when that pain would come, and when it would go, in purple bruises and bloody knuckles, in Garou’s eyes, reddened and filled with shame and anger, turning away so he didn’t have to look at Jae-ha. But the bitterness underneath it was slower to fade, coiling hatred and frustration that was strangling them both_. 

“That… that was Zeno’s fault, too.”

Jae-ha made a tiny sound at the back of his throat, dropping his head into his hands. Suddenly, he felt restless, ill-at-ease as the blood in his ears pounded hot and furious and tight with pain. His chest hurt, and he was suddenly filled with a mad desire to run away, to simply jump to the sky and be gone, as far away as he could go. Maybe he need never fall back down to earth; that was something he had thought about as a child, in his chains on the dark, cold nights.

Even before he knew what he was doing, he was standing, walking a little way along the stream’s sandy bank, only to jump into a treetop, a little way off. He leaned back against the thick trunk, turning his face away so that even the light of the fire was blocked from his peripheral vision. He felt he needed to be alone, for just a moment, and he was grateful at least that Zeno had simply let him go. The moon still shone down on his face, warm and rounded, a golden harvest moon, just as it had before Zeno had told him. It had only moved a little way across the sky.  _How quickly one’s perception of someone can change; just like that_. 

Zeno was still sitting just where Jae-ha had left him, he knew; he could sense his presence, but he didn’t even need to do so to know that. 

For a while he just sat there, simply staring up at the sky, bright with stars and moonlight, trying - and failing - to think of nothing, to calm his nerves. 

After a while, he dropped quietly down from the branch, his feet sinking a little into the soft, damp sand at the edge of the stream. Carefully, he walked back to sit back down beside Zeno, who, sure enough, had not moved. He seemed almost _too_ still, as if carved from stone, staring unblinking into the fire. 

“I…” Jae-ha felt his voice become unsteady, as it had barely been since he was a child, asking Captain Gigan to take him in. “I hope you know, that I don’t know if I have forgiven you…” Zeno’s back stiffened, though he did not look, “…yet.”

Zeno turned to him, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“I…” he took a deep breath. “I _will_ be able to though. If you give me time.”

Zeno smiled in relief, a very slight, very weary smile, and for the first time Jae-ha almost saw the uncountable years on his face. “Time… yes, Zeno can give Ryokuryuu that.” 

There was another long silence, broken only by the soft sounds of the river trickling past, just out of the circle of firelight on the bank. Jae-ha felt suddenly empty, hollow, everything that had been boiling up within him mere moments before seeming to drain away suddenly, though it did not leave behind a calm sort of stillness. Merely a deep, aching nothingness, a grief for a life and a childhood he could have had. _No, you’re wrong_ , said another voice inside his mind, with a hard, cutting edge. _You had it easy_. He had gotten away, hadn’t he? He had lived a life, of relative safety and happiness, with Captain Gigan in Awa. And then he had found Yona, and he had found his family with her. At least now he understood that.

But all the generations that had gone before him… none of them had been so lucky, had they?

He looked back at Zeno. “Why then?”

His sudden words seemed to startle Zeno a little. “Hmm?”

“Why then, why that moment in particular? Why sixteen years ago…” he paused, realisation coming. “Ah… it was because of her, wasn’t it? It was because Yona was born into the world.”

Zeno nodded slowly. “A red star appeared, bright in the sky, and Zeno knew that change was coming.”

Jae-ha nodded too. He even remembered the star; he remembered he had tried to escape that very day, one of so many failed attempts. He remembered the door of the hut where he had been chained standing open, as Garou stood frozen for a moment on the threshold as he came back with Jae-ha’s rations. The light and the rush of cold air as Garou opened the door had woken Jae-ha that morning, and he opened his eyes, blinking sleepily, to the sight of Garou’s dark silhouette cut from the fiery brightness of the dawn sky with the red star blazing across it. Garou had let the bowl slip from his hands, seeming frozen for a moment as he gazed upwards. And if Jae-ha had been about to protest at Garou dropping their meagre allowance of food, his words soon died in his throat, as he had stared up at that comet, as transfixed as Garou was. 

There had been something about it, he had known even then, though all those years after he had pushed the knowledge down, somewhere out of sight. He had not been able to look away, the very blood in his veins seeming to sing, and by the look of it, Garou was just as captivated; Jae-ha didn’t even need to see his face to feel the hunger and yearning and the deep, deep well of sorrow and regret that made Jae-ha’s own chest ache as it shone back at him through the connection their blood made between them. 

Still, for all the comet affected him, he was not about to miss this chance. Tearing his eyes away from Garou’s still figure, away from the sky and the star -  _but oh, it was beautiful, he had never seen such a beautiful sight in all his short, harsh, ugly life_ , he found himself thinking - he turned his gaze to Garou’s hand, where the familiar, longed-for ring of keys hung from fingers gone momentarily slack, unguarded. 

Jae-ha had been quick to see his chance, and quick to take it. 

In a moment, he had lunged forward - as far as the chains would let him - and snatched the ring of keys from Garou’s hand, throwing his shoulder against Garou’s hip and sending him sprawling into the door frame with a curse and a clatter. Quickly, he stuffed the key into the lock on the shackle at his wrists, blood pounding in his ears. He had to be quick, he knew. Garou was stronger than he was, and had more power still in his dragon’s foot; Garou could easily outrun and outjump him over open ground, and overpower him once he had. 

But Jae-ha was skinny and fast and lithe, and if he could just slip past Garou, he might be able to get enough of a start to run for the cover of the trees down the hillside, hide and then jump away to freedom… he gritted his teeth as the shackles fell from his wrists at last, even as Garou loomed up over him, the enraptured vulnerability that had filled him as he had gazed up at that bright sky now entirely gone from his face, replaced with simple anger.

“What do you think you’re doing? Are you an idiot, as well as a brat? Don’t you understand yet? Don’t you know there’s nowhere to run to?”

He was right. Garou had him cornered, his dragon’s foot pressing down on Jae-ha’s bunched hands against the hard stone. Not hard enough to break his fingers, but hard enough to bruise. Hard enough that it would hurt if he tried to move. 

Still, his hands were unshackled now, the keys still trapped beneath his palms, metal pressing painfully into his skin… that pain was clean and good, somehow, and it gave him hope. 

He took a deep breath, his head bowed. He could still get out, his chance was not lost… outside the door, the red star burned as though in encouragement. _It must be a sign. It must be. Today is the day, the day I get out of here._ He had to believe it. 

And so, with a sudden, wrenching force, he pulled his hands out from beneath Garou’s foot, letting out a gasp of pain as his knuckles were scraped raw against the hard stone. But the blood and the pain didn’t matter; all that mattered were the keys in his hand. And so, before Garou had time to react, Jae-ha was picking up one of the opened shackles, flinging the chain about Garou’s right ankle and pulling suddenly, with all his strength. It was enough to unbalance Garou, who fell down on his back with a hiss of pain. Jae-ha was ready though; wasting no time, he unlocked the shackles on his ankles, springing to his feet even as Garou blocked the doorway. 

Once again the bright sky dazzled him for half an instant. Still, he did not pause to look for very long. Even as Garou aimed a flying kick at him, Jae-ha did not even try to block it, but simply ducked to the floor, slipping beneath the blow that should have knocked the air and from his lungs and scrambling towards the door, his scratched and bloodied hands leaving dark sticky stains on the stones. 

Outside, the ground was still damp from the rain that had come in the night, his bare feet sinking into the cold, damp mud. He ran a little way, and leapt at last into that pink sky of early morning, the red star overhead seeming to welcome him into the brightness above, the light of freedom. _Yes, this is it, this has to be it_ … he felt a sudden thrill, exhilaration coursing through him. He didn’t know what it meant, that star, if it meant anything at all. But it was really was beautiful, that much he did know. _As beautiful as the freedom that was within his grasp, as the wind already tugging at his hair, dancing about him as he leapt for the sky_ …

A jolt, and suddenly he was not propelled by the momentum of his own leap anymore, but falling backwards, something clasping about his ankle. _As always_. He yelled out in frustration as he fell down to the earth hard, landing on his back, winded as Garou let go of his ankle. His heart sank as he met those eyes looking down at him, struggling even though he knew it was futile as Garou lifted him, carried him back to the hut. Glaring up at him mutinously as Garou clasped his chains back on, then screamed at him for a while for making him drop their allowance of food. Pity, almost, as he watched Garou hunch over and try to pick the scattered grains of rice from the cracks in the floor, trying to get as many as possible, while beyond the door the red star shone bright in the sky still, though Jae-ha could no longer see it. 

Disappointment had coursed through him then, more than anger or fear or humiliation. _But he had been so sure_ …

The next day the star had gone, and he had never seen it in the sky again.

 _To think that that was the very day that Yona was born, far off in the castle_ …

It had been only a little while after that incident that Jae-ha had had the dragon dream and woken to find the cloak covering him, he realised. It made sense now, but he wondered why he had never connected the two incidents in the past.

“Where were you?” Jae-ha asked softly, coming back to present, “when you saw it?" 

Zeno smiled faintly, but sadly, Jae-ha thought. "Zeno was sitting in a tree, looking out over a beautiful mountain valley.” He hesitated for a moment. “Hakuryuu was there too! We watched the star fall together." 

”…Oh.“ That caught him off guard. Kija would have been young then, barely more than four years old… "Does… does he remember that?" 

”……Sometimes, Zeno thinks. When… when Hakuryuu was dreaming in his fever, perhaps there was a moment…“ 

Jae-ha nodded, the painful memory of seeing Kija and Shin-ah fall to the sickness still too fresh in his mind. A new thought occurred to him. "And I suppose you paid a little visit to Shin-ah too?” _And then left him there in that village, too?_  Jae-ha had never been to Seiryuu village, but from what the others has told him it was nearly as bad as his own, or worse; a child locked beneath the ground in the darkness, given eyes that could see all but never allowed out into a world full of wonders to look at; as far as cruel irony went, Jae-ha often thought, Shin-ah’s childhood was on a par with his own.

Zeno looked a little stricken. "Yes” he said softly. “Seiryuu really was too small to remember though. Two years old! Zeno brought him a ball to play with, so he might have wondered where that came from, but…” his words tailed off and he shook his head. 

Suddenly realisation came to Jae-ha, once again. “You… You didn’t _want_  us to remember, did you? That’s why you didn’t wake me. Why you left.” He could feel what should perhaps have been anger coiling inside him, but felt instead far too much like sorrow, and emptiness. “You didn’t want us to remember, in case…” _in case the red star came to nothing after all. If Yona had never left the castle, or if she hadn’t been your King Hiryuu after all, if it had all been a big mistake… you would have had to leave us behind once more, and if we had remembered, you wouldn’t have been able to do that. You would never have been able to bear the long, slow centuries of waiting, not with that on your shoulders along with everything else_. “I’m right, aren’t I, Zeno?”

 Zeno nodded. “The others think Zeno is brave, maybe. But Zeno thinks Ryokuryuu knows Zeno a little better now." 

 _Brave…?_ Images chased each other through Jae-ha’s mind, of Zeno bloodied and broken and still fighting, of Zeno throwing himself between the others and danger, over and over again. "Ah… Zeno…” he shook his head, running his fingers through the front of his hair. Jae-ha’s next words fell into the heavy silence like stones cast into still water. “Are you going to tell them?”

“…Zeno supposes he should.” Zeno paused, but it sounded like he was waiting for something.

“Well, don’t look at me. That’s a choice you have to make yourself.”

Zeno picked up his stick and stirred the fire. “Maybe there was never any choice to make.”

“There’s _always_ a choice to make.” If the life he had lived had taught him anything, Jae-ha thought, it had certainly taught him that. 

Zeno dropped his stick and looked Jae-ha straight in the eye for a long moment, his face solemn. “…Then Zeno will make sure to make the right one, this time.” Zeno hesitated. “Thank you, Ryokuryuu.”

“For what?”

“For showing Zeno how to be brave.”


End file.
